


A Rose Is A Rose Is A Rose

by aceAdoxography, AllDaveKat



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Illness, Eating Disorders, Embarrassment, Hanahaki Disease, Hospitals, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Realistic Hanahaki, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 75,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceAdoxography/pseuds/aceAdoxography, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllDaveKat/pseuds/AllDaveKat
Summary: Karkat has chronic Hanahaki and falls in love with almost anyone who talks to him. Dave lives in the shadow of his four very attractive older brothers.The first time they meet is in college, when they--and all of Dave's brothers--end up in the same dorm together. Karkat starts falling for every Strider except for Dave, who's beginning to wonder why it's bothering him so much.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Unrequited Karkat Vantas/Other Striders
Comments: 98
Kudos: 209





	1. Oh Shit, It's The Striders

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags, this one gets pretty heavy. 
> 
> Also warning for mentions of off-screen drug use by a side character. Not tagging bc it's not a focus of the fic.

Dave loves his brothers. They’re wacky and dysfunctional and cool as shit, and Dave wouldn’t trade them for the world. When put next to them, however, Dave doesn’t measure up. He’s just… underwhelming. Up against any rando off the street Dave would win in a cool contest hands down, but his brothers truly have that shit on lock.

D’s the oldest. His name is also Dave, which has been the cause of many hilarious antics. He’s four years older than Dave and got into college with a swimming scholarship.

Dirk and Hal are twins. Dirk Harold Strider and Harold Dirk Strider. Confusingly, they go by their middle names, because they’re assholes. They’re both shorter than the Daves, but take great pride in their appearances and they’re smart as shit.

Dave is outshone in all regards by his brothers. They’re hotter, smarter, more charming. He usually doesn’t give a shit, which is why he was thrilled when they were all (due to a clerical error thanks to their names) put in the same dorm when he joined them in college. Luckily they share a two bedroom with a common area and not a single room, otherwise there would surely be bloodshed. But it’s pretty fucking sweet. Dave definitely doesn’t have any sort of issues there, no matter what his cousin Rose says.

Even better than getting to share a sweet room with his three older brothers, though, is that there’s a $1-per-scoop ice cream shop on the bottom floor of their dormitory.

Which is where they are now. D is at swim practice, probably. He might be out getting high with his teammates. It’s impossible to know, really. But Dave is sitting with Dirk and Hal at a bench, going absolutely ham on a four scoop tall bowl. They don’t have a limit to the amount of scoops one person can get, and Dave is going to be the sole reason that rule is put in place.

The only thing getting in the way of his chocolate-chip-fudge-brownie-mint-cotton-candy ice cream extravaganza is the weight of a stare pointed at himself and his brothers. He ignores it; people stare at them all the time. Comes with the territory. But then the sound of a hacking cough catches his attention and he looks over to see a dude booking it to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth. Dave pauses with his spoon halfway to his mouth.

“Was that the guy who was watching us?” he asks. He looks at his ice cream. “It’s not that disgusting.”

“It’s extremely disgusting,” Hal and Dirk say in unison, and promptly scowl at each other.

“Don’t worry, your gross ice cream choices didn’t make him barf,” Dirk says. “That’s Karkat.”

When the name doesn’t immediately bring about an epiphany, Hal chimes in, “He has Hanahaki. He’s in love with us.”

Dave’s eyes widen behind his shades. His brothers are being surprisingly chill about what could be a fatal disease.

“Don’t worry, he has this inhaler for it,” Dirk shrugs. “And probably some other stuff. I don’t know. He gets it a lot, apparently.”

Oh. Well, that’s not too bad, then.

“He asked Dirk out last week,” Hal says, an amused smirk flitting quickly across his features before disappearing as quickly as it appeared. “He said no, so the kid asked me out yesterday. I was incredibly insulted to be his second choice.”

Dave rolls his eyes as Dirk and Hal start to bicker about which one of them is the better twin. They do this multiple times a day. Dave happily returns to his ice cream, thoughts of the dude with chronic Hanahaki gone from his mind.

Dirk and Hal leave him to his delicious frozen snack, having to run off to class. Dave is only about halfway done and starting to regret his choices when Karkat finally exits the bathroom. It’s been a frankly alarming amount of time since he entered.

\---

The one good thing about having chronic Hanahaki, Karkat thinks, is getting a single dorm room all to yourself.

Apparently the ADA advises against letting college students with the disease have roommates--especially not ones whose condition is triggered as easily and frequently as Karkat’s. It would be like letting a recovering alcoholic live next door to a bar; the odds of a relapse are too high, and the lawsuits just aren’t worth it.

So Karkat gets to enjoy his freshman year in a luxurious single. All the posters on the walls are his, there’s nobody to argue with him about doing the dishes or leaving dirty underwear on the floor. He can stay up as late as he wants and hit his snooze button as many times as he wants.

And he’s just as fucking lonely as he’s always been.

Moreso, actually, because at least back home he had his parents and cat to keep him company. Here, there’s nobody to talk to, no comforting background noises to distract him from his mopey thoughts.

See, the shitty thing about having chronic Hanahaki is… well, fucking _everything_. But specifically, it’s the fact that Karkat doesn’t get to have any friends, because he’s a hopeless romantic loser who falls in love with every fucking person who talks to him for more than half a minute. (Which ends up triggering his humiliating fucking disease, and usually also ruins whatever friendship might have been forming with the object of his unrequited affections.) Also it makes his lungs hurt, and it’s embarrassing, and he has to carry an inhaler everywhere, and it makes his parents worry, and it makes him feel like shit about himself because every few weeks, yet-a-fucking-gain, there he is catching feelings for someone who won’t return them.

He knows he shouldn’t complain, he should be grateful. He’s lucky his disease has never been serious enough to be fatal, and that his parents have been willing and able to take him to countless doctors and specialists and psychiatrists and so on. That he can afford the inhalers that keep him breathing normally. And he _is_ grateful, really. He tries to live his life as normally as possible, or as normally as anyone with a chronic illness can. He does his best not to let it get him down.

But sometimes it really, really sucks not having any friends.

He’s sitting on his bed, re-reading one of his favorite romance novels for the fortieth time or so (thank god his disease isn’t triggered by fictional characters, or else he’d be in big fucking trouble), and feeling the weight of silence in his dorm room pressing down on him. He does his best to ignore it, but the feeling worsens by the minute until he thinks he’s going to burst into tears if he spends another minute alone.

He sighs and stands up, grabs his inhaler and a couple dollar bills, and heads downstairs to the ice cream shop. He gets himself a bowl of double chocolate chunk and claims an empty table, pulling his book back out to read while he eats his ice cream.

Only a few minutes pass before he looks up to see a group of blonde guys walking in and oh, shit, it’s the Striders. Karkat’s face warms and he hides behind his book as he watches them buy their ice cream. He knows he shouldn’t be staring, but he just can’t seem to look away. His eyes dart back and forth between the two twins, Dirk and Hal, and his heart pounds.

He first bumped into the two of them in an elevator a couple weeks ago. They shared a brief conversation about something inane, Karkat doesn’t even fucking remember what it was about, but he _does_ remember the telltale sensation of his lungs filling with petals not even ten minutes after they parted ways.

It’s not his fucking fault, okay? The way Dirk smirked at him when he introduced himself and Hal draped his arm across his twin’s shoulder… and their stupid spiky anime-ass matching hairstyles! Seriously, how does anyone have the right to walk around looking that fucking attractive? That’s what Karkat wants to know.

A week went by and he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about them--or coughing up petals--so he took it in his hands to completely humiliate himself by asking one of them out. He chose Dirk first, because he seemed slightly more approachable, but was quickly and painfully rejected. A week later he asked out Hal, who also shot him down immediately.

Karkat knows it’s just infatuation, puppy love. It’s not real love. Not the kind you’d need a surgery to get rid of. But that’s why it’s so incredibly fucking frustrating that his body is reacting this way. Normal people can get crushes without their lungs trying to grow a goddamn flower garden inside them, but not Karkat Vantas.

Tearing his eyes away from the twins, he goes to take another bite of ice cream, but he starts coughing loudly and uncontrollably and drops his spoon, making everyone in the cafe turn to look at him. Face flaming, he covers his mouth and runs to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. He spends the next twenty minutes or so kneeling in front of the toilet, hacking up petals and taking puffs of his inhaler, and when the attack finally passes, he returns to his seat and his ice cream is completely melted.

He sighs, pushing the bowl aside. He’s not even hungry anymore, but he doesn’t want to go back upstairs yet so he stays for a while, sipping water and reading his book at the empty table, letting the ambient sounds of chatter and laughter wash over him. He wishes more than anything that he could be a part of those conversations, to have a friend of his own, but it’s still better than nothing at all.

\---

Dude, this kid looks fucking miserable. He’s all morosely giving up on his ice cream and staring at his book like it killed his puppy, sitting all alone. Dave doesn’t know much about Hanahaki, except that it can be fatal if it isn’t treated, and he’s never heard about anyone having it like, chronically. It must fucking suck, falling in love with people and having to cough up flowers all the time because they don’t love you back.

Dirk and Hal aren’t exactly what Dave would call heartbreakers, if only because their insistence on discussing philosophy and shit to death drives a lot of people away, but Karkat sure does look heartbroken.

Dave isn’t a monster, and he’s also not his brothers, but he can toss a person the consolation prize of a conversation so they stop looking so damn lonely. He gets up and grabs his shit, then swaggers over to Karkat’s booth and plops down across from him, startling the guy so much he jumps and jerks his head up and. Woah. Big eyes.

“‘Sup dude,” Dave says coolly. “Watcha readin’?”

\---

Karkat's eyes are wide with surprise as he appraises the guy who's just rudely barged in on his private reading time. Not that Karkat wasn't wishing mere seconds ago that he had someone to talk to, but there's something about this guy that sets his teeth on edge.

Then he recognizes him--it's the youngest Strider brother, who was sitting with Dirk and Hal earlier. Karkat doesn't know his name, but he's seen him around campus, trailing around after his older siblings like a lost puppy trying to fit in with a wolf pack.

He realizes he's been staring at the guy for way too long, and puts his book down.

"Uh, it's called Waking Up Married. It's a romance novel," he says. "Sorry, why the fuck are you here again?"

\---

Dave raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on the book. A dude could read what sounded like a shitty romance novel if he wanted to.

“You looked like you could use some company,” Dave shrugs. “You were bringing down the atmosphere with your moping. I’m guessing since you couldn’t stare at my brothers anymore. They had to go to class.”

The look on Karkat’s face is thunderous and Dave continues before he’s told to fuck off.

“It’s chill, man. Striders get fans lining down the block. I get it. You want me to put in a good word for you?”

He takes another bite of his ice cream and pouts down at it. It’s not nearly as delicious now that his stomach is starting to hurt.

\---

Okay, this taintlicker is definitely mocking Karkat. He has to be, there's no other explanation for the bullshit he's spewing. Karkat is so not in the motherfucking mood for this.

His eyes narrow. "Why the shitblistering fuck would you want to put in a good word for me? We don't know each other, I don't even know your fucking name! You're just some asshole who has obnoxiously attractive siblings and apparently vomitworthy taste in ice cream. Did you seriously put chocolate and cotton candy in the same fucking bowl? And mint? Jesus, are you trying to give yourself heartburn?"

Karkat shakes his head. "Honestly, based on your poor judgement in ice cream combinations alone, I don't think I'd even trust you to walk down the street without knocking yourself flat unconscious, let alone helping me win over your brothers."

He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, confident that his repugnant personality will at least get this jerkwad to leave him alone. He's definitely ruined any chances he might have had with the twins, too, but it's not like he had high hopes for that shit in the first place.

\---

Dave takes another bite of his vomitworthy ice cream.

“Harsh, dude,” he says.

Karkat’s an ornery motherfucker, huh? His face is scrunched up in a scowl, arms crossed, staring Dave down like he could blast a hole in his chest if he glares hard enough. Dave was just trying to help, but there’s no way this guy could handle Dirk _or_ Hal. He’d kill them within hours.

“I’m Dave,” he introduces himself. “Probably should have started with that. And I’ll have you know I mastered the art of walking down the street without concussing myself at nine years old. My family was very proud.”

He picks up his bowl and waves it slightly. “Want some? It’s not as bad as you’d think.”

If he’s honest with himself, Dave isn’t the best at making friends. People generally try to hang with him to get closer to his brothers, unless they’re John, who Dave just clicked with pretty instantly. Although at least with this guy Dave doesn’t have any misconceptions. He wants into his brothers’ pants, plain and simple. It stings a bit, that he didn’t even know Dave’s name, though. It’s not like he’s _that_ easily overlooked, is he?

\---

"No fucking way," Karkat says, leaning back as far as he can, away from the nauseating mix of flavors swirling around in the bowl. "My health is shitty enough as it is, I don't need to add an ice-cream-induced stomach condition to my list of diagnoses."

His brain catches up to the conversation and he realizes he actually has heard this guy's name before. But-- "Wait, you're Dave? I thought Dave was the oldest Strider, the one who won all those swimming awards."

He looks doubtfully at Dave's slender frame and lanky arms. "No offense, but you don't exactly look like a star athlete. And you don't look very old, either."

\---

“You’re really crushing my fragile self-esteem here, dude,” Dave says. He gives up, pushing his ice cream aside and glancing at it mournfully.

Karkat isn’t wrong. Dave’s the tallest of his brothers, even having an inch on D, but he’s the slimmest of them all. Where D is made of nothing but muscle, and the twins have hella arm strength, Dave is just a string bean. His metabolism makes holding onto anything, be it fat or muscle, pretty much impossible. But he’s fine with that. Totally fine.

“You’re thinking of D,” he says. “His name is technically Dave, too, but no one actually calls him that. He’s the shining star of the swim team or whatever.”

Dave honestly should have thought twice about sitting here. Not that he has anything against talking about his awesome brothers nonstop, but typically when people pump him for information they don’t stare at him judgmentally while they do it.

\---

Dave's expression turns glum and Karkat kind of regrets being so harsh on him. He didn't really mean to make Dave feel bad, he was just lashing out because he's a fucking asshole who doesn't know how to make people like him.

And really, he can't even blame the Hanahaki for that, because he's been this way as long as he can remember. Even before the first time he got sent home from school for coughing up petals, he remembers wishing he had friends to play with on the playground, or to sit with at lunch. But he's always been ornery and standoffish, and his classmates naturally seemed to avoid and dislike him--or worse, in later years, bully and mock him for his condition.

The few times when he's been able to make a friend, he's always caught feelings immediately like a pathetic asshole, which means he can't even be around the person without giving himself away by coughing his lungs out. He doesn't blame people for not sticking around.

But still, that doesn't mean he has to go around actively making other people feel shitty about themselves. His insides twist with guilt at the mopey look on Dave's face.

"Okay. Well. It's nice to meet you, Dave, I guess," he says, gritting his teeth. "I'm Karkat, in case you didn't already know that from your brothers telling you about what a loser I am. They're right, by the way."

Jesus, could he be any worse at talking to people? He braces himself and waits for Dave to mock him and leave.

\---

Dave raises his eyebrows. He was kind of expecting another passive aggressive insult.

“They didn’t say you’re a loser,” Dave says. “They just told me you have that flower stuff and an inhaler for it.”

They technically told him a little more than that, but not much. Should Dave be defensive on his brothers’ behalf? Nah, whatever. They can take care of themselves.

“You could stand to find some chill but you don’t seem that bad,” he shrugs. Mostly Karkat reminds him of a little yappy dog, barking and trying to make himself seem bigger so no one fucks with him. “Anyway, if you want an in with the twins try looking up solipsism. They love that shit.”

He shrugs again. He’s probably done about all he can, here. Karkat will either try again or he won’t, he’ll either succeed or fail. Probably fail, honestly, because he doesn’t seem like Dirk or Hal’s type. Too short, too grouchy, too cute compared to Jake English’s tall, cheerful, and chiseled. Dave should stop bugging him and maybe see if John’s up for a round of Mario Party or something.

He remains seated.

\---

Karkat has no fucking clue what solipsism means, but he makes a mental note to look it up. He still doesn't think he's got any semblance of a chance because face it, the twins look like _that_ and he looks like _this_. Not to mention his dumpster fire of a personality. But still, it's decent of Dave to give him advice.

Unless Dave's just completely fucking with him. It wouldn't be the first time.

He decides to believe him for now, though. Worst thing that happens is he makes an ass of himself in front of two hot guys, again, which is basically guaranteed to happen with or without Dave's interference, so.

He nods. "Okay, I'll look it up. Uh... thanks."

He has no idea what to say now. What do you even talk about with someone when you're not a) insulting them, or b) trying to get them to fall in love with you?

\---

Dave grins at the simple thanks, good mood entirely restored.

“No problem, man,” he says. “I love my brothers but they’re all kind of disasters when it comes to actually socializing.”

Dave wouldn’t have any idea what that’s like.

“Don’t let them intimidate you,” he continues. “One time they got into a fist fight over who got to be Inuyasha for halloween. They were like eleven, but still. Giant fucking weebs.”

Oh shit, he’s not supposed to tell anyone about that. Whoops. He rubs at the back of his neck and laughs lightly.

“Don’t, uh, tell them I told you that,” he says.

\---

Karkat snorts with amusement despite himself.

"Fuck, Dave, remind me to never tell you anything in confidence. You literally just met me and you're already spilling your brothers' deepest secrets," he says.

Shit, that was kind of incredibly presumptuous of Karkat, wasn't it? Implying that Dave's even going to talk to him ever again. He's probably going to walk away any minute and forget this conversation ever happened. Unless he really does want to help Karkat get together with his brothers? Maybe Dave's just one of those meddling matchmaker types who likes to get involved in other people's romantic relationships.

"Don't worry though, I won't tell them. I don't think embarrassing someone about their childhood weeb moments is the best way to get them to like you back. But what the fuck do I know? It's not like anything I've done so far has worked. Maybe people actually love being mocked about their nerdy interests and I've just been failing at romance my whole life because I didn't know this one simple trick."

It's odd how the words just kind of keep pouring out of him. It's never this easy for Karkat to talk to strangers, what the fuck? Maybe it's because he's not trying to get Dave to like him, so the pressure's off. Or maybe it's just that Dave seems like such a harmless goober there's no way Karkat could be intimidated by him.

\---

Dave’s smile widens. He’s totally nailing this conversation, fuck yes.

“I can keep secrets!” he protests. “Just not funny ones.”

Now that the dam is broken, words flow out of Karkat without pause. He’s actually pretty funny, and his face is incredibly animated once he stops staring at Dave suspiciously.

“Well there’s your problem,” Dave says. “It’s kindergarten rules up in this bitch. How is someone supposed to know you like them if you aren’t tugging their pigtails and throwing worms at them or whatever? I don’t know, I skipped kindergarten.”

“Maybe I should start a magazine,” he continues consideringly. “‘This one simple tip will put you in the Striders’ good graces!’ But when you turn to page 9 it’s just an alarmingly detailed picture of Friedrich Nietzsche’s mustache.”

\---

"What the fuck, Dave?!" Karkat's laughter bursts out of him unexpectedly, but then turns into a hacking cough. He turns away, covering his mouth with a hand, his face hot with embarrassment.

When the coughing subsides, he glares at the pair of orange petals in his palm and brushes them into his discarded bowl.

"Fuck, sorry," he says. "Guess I didn't get them all out earlier after all."

His lungs feel tight and uncomfortable, so he pulls out his inhaler and takes a puff, holding his breath and counting to ten, then letting it out. He feels self conscious with Dave's curious eyes on him.

\---

Karkat’s laughter is sharp and loud, making Dave startle slightly, but he beams with pride. _Fuck_ yes, he’s hilarious. Finally, someone who appreciates his humor.

But then Karkat starts coughing. It’s a concerning, rattling cough that has Dave’s eyebrows drawing together beneath his shades. Karkat pulls his hand away and dumps two little petals into his bowl, then digs out his inhaler.

“It’s cool,” Dave says, keeping his voice neutral. Karkat probably wouldn’t appreciate some random asshole pitying him. Dave certainly wouldn’t. “You good?”

That sounded painful as fuck. Dave recalls his brothers’ looks of amusement as Karkat ran off to the bathroom earlier and his stomach knots uncomfortably. Was he really in there that entire time coughing up flowers? Dave feels like a phenomenal jackass, even though he didn’t really do anything.

\---

"Ugh, yeah, I'm fine," Karkat says. His voice is a little raspy, though, and he's not entirely sure he won't have another coughing attack.

He should probably go back to his room just in case. This has been enough public humiliation for one day, thanks.

Part of him really wants to stay and keep chatting with Dave, because it's weirdly the most relaxing and easy social interaction he's had in fucking ages, but he can feel his shoulders tensing with anxiety, his lungs rattling and threatening to betray him again.

"Actually, I should go, I have homework and shit I've been putting off," he says, standing and gathering up his things. "Uh, thanks for the advice, though. It was cool to meet you."

\---

Dave tries to hide his disappointment, not wanting to come off as weird or clingy. He was having fun talking to Karkat, though. He wanted to try to make him laugh again.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he says, as Karkat collects his stuff. “See you around.”

Karkat takes his leave and Dave lets himself mope for a few minutes, then gets out his phone. Time to bother Egbert into paying attention to him again.

A week goes by and Karkat is chased from his mind by other things. Dirk and Hal start working on a robot arm they’re positive will revolutionize prosthetics, D breaks another record and Dave gets to go to his first legit college party where he gets trashed and spends half an hour heaving into a toilet, then drunkenly walks back to his dorm because he doesn’t want to interrupt his brothers having a good time.

Oh, and classes happen too.

Dave is heading back to his room after finishing a math class, dodging around other students in the hall before breaking free of the double doors into the sunshine. He winces behind his shades as his eyes adjust, and then he spots a familiar head of messy black curls. Karkat is sitting on a bench, nose buried in a book. Does this dude do anything other than read? What a nerd.

“Hey,” Dave says, dropping his bag to the ground and sitting next to him. “Still reading that book about arranged marriages or whatever?”

He hasn’t heard Dirk or Hal mention Karkat again, which means he either hasn’t taken Dave’s advice or the twins didn’t think it was worth talking about. He remembers the way Karkat sounded, hacking petals up from his lungs, and frowns.

\---

Heading back to his room, Karkat’s mind plays over the strange interaction with Dave. It wasn't... bad? He's not honestly sure how he feels about the whole situation. But he's definitely not worried about falling in love with Dave, which is actually a relief. Being able to talk to someone without it fucking his lungs up? He’ll call that a win for sure.

It’s not that Dave’s bad-looking, or anything; Karkat knows some of the girls at his high school would have gone nuts over Dave's whole _look_ , with his long arms and legs and strikingly pale features. He's just not Karkat's type, that's all.

Karkat spends several hours online reading about solipsism and epistemology. It's sort of interesting, and he feels like he's learning a thing or two, but it's not exactly light reading and honestly he'd much rather be watching movies. But he doesn't want to squander the opportunity Dave handed him, so he keeps reading until his head starts to ache.

When he goes to bed, he turns on his CPAP machine and straps the mask onto his face. The unwieldy contraption keeps him from waking up coughing most nights, which is honestly a fucking miracle, but it's also annoying and incredibly embarrassing that he has to use it in the first place. Yet another reason he's glad he doesn't have a roommate.

Several days later, he's passing through the library and sees Hal at one of the study tables, typing on his laptop. Karkat's lungs ache at the sight of him slouched in his chair, his handsome profile accentuated by his spiked hairstyle. Karkat remembers what Dave said about the twins being huge weebs and he bites his lip with a smile.

Okay. He can do this.

He takes a deep breath and walks over to Hal, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him.

Hal looks up over his laptop, his expression hidden behind triangular shades. "'Sup, Karkat. You're kind of blocking my sunlight, do you mind? I'm trying to get a tan here."

Karkat looks around. There are no windows nearby and it's a cloudy day outside anyway, so he decides to ignore the comment.

"Hey, Hal. Actually I wanted to ask you if you had any recommendations for books on solipsism?" He hates how loud his voice is, how unsure he sounds. Ugh, he's so fucking bad at this.

Hal's eyebrow raises. "You taking a philosophy class or something?"

"No, just reading about it for fun.” Karkat feels completely transparent, Hal’s gaze piercing right through him like he sees every single insecurity Karkat’s ever had. It’s not a great feeling.

“Honestly, dude, you should probably ask the librarian. Or check with one of the philosophy professors. Sorry I can’t help you more, but I’m kind of in the middle of something.” He turns back to his laptop, already typing away.

“Oh, yeah, of course. Sorry to bother you,” Karkat says, face burning. He hurries to the bathroom with his head down, his throat already beginning to choke up with petals.

Another few days pass. Karkat’s sitting on a bench reading a new romance novel he found at the used bookstore, called _A Night With My Boss_. It’s honestly kind of terrible but he still finds himself getting completely captivated by the story, so he startles slightly as someone plops down next to him and starts talking like they know each other.

Oh, it’s Dave.

This is weird. Karkat’s not used to having people come up and talk to him. He’s always the one following people around, trying to talk to _them_ and getting shut down over and over. It's kind of a nice change. Except for Dave’s asinine comments about his book, those he could do without.

“No, this is a new one. And Waking Up Married isn’t about arranged marriage, dumbass,” Karkat rolls his eyes and it’s a whole body motion. “It’s about this man and woman who meet in Vegas, okay, she’s there for a bachelorette party and he--I forget, I think he’s there on business or something, anyway they end up having a one night stand and getting married that night at one of those wedding chapels they have all over the city. But when they wake up, they both flip the fuck out because neither of them remembers any of it. They’re essentially strangers to each other. So obviously Megan--that’s the girl--she wants to get a divorce right away, but the guy decides he likes her for real, so he tries to talk her out of it.”

He finishes his rant, belatedly realizing that Dave hadn’t actually asked for a synopsis of the entire fucking book. Well, whatever, it’s not like he cares what Dave thinks of him anyway.

\---

Dave literally didn’t ask, but okay.

“He sounds like a dick,” Dave says bluntly, cocking an eyebrow. “Trying to make some rando stay married to him instead of like, asking for her number or something.”

Maybe insulting Karkat’s reading choices isn’t the right decision, if the look on his face is anything to go by.

“Anyway,” he says quickly, before Karkat can jump down his throat. “What’s this one about?”

Dave reaches over to tilt the book up so he can read the title, making a little “huh,” in surprise.

“You read a lot of romance novels?” he asks.

Normally he’d rip into someone if say, Egbert were the one making doe eyes over romance novels. But taking into account Karkat’s lung-rotting flower disease it just… seems kind of sad. And Dave’s not about to kick a dude while he’s down.

\---

Karkat's about to argue, even though he actually also thought the character was a creepy fuck, but Dave doesn't know that, okay, he hasn't read the fucking book--but Dave keeps talking and grabs at his book, completely disrupting Karkat's train of thought.

He sighs. "Yeah. I know it's fucking ironic considering my..." he gestures vaguely toward his chest, "But I've always been completely obsessed with them. Movies, too. I'm sure a psychiatrist would have a field day with me. Actually, I've seen several of them and they have, so I don't know why I'm even speculating about that."

Wow, he's really just spilling his entire life story to Dave, now, isn't he? Maybe it's time to rein it in just a tiny bit.

"What about you?" Karkat asks. "What do you like to read or watch, or whatever?"

\---

“Yeah I don’t doubt it,” Dave says, thinking of the way Rose likes to dig her grubby little fingers into his grey matter at every opportunity. He’s a bit surprised when Karkat asks about his interests.

“I don’t read much,” he says. “Gotta do too much of that for classes, and I have mild dyslexia. Kind of kills the motivation when it comes to reading for fun.”

Oof, okay. Maybe don’t go complaining about your learning disabilities to an essential stranger, Strider.

“I like music,” Dave says, hoping to just brush over that. “And anime. Not as much as Dirk and Hal, obviously, but there are some pretty dope ones out there. Also shitty horror movies. Or like, any kind of shitty movies but there just seems to be a plethora of really bad horror movies out there. Me and my friend John have marathons sometimes but he like, genuinely thinks the movies he chooses are good and it’s the most hilarious shit I’ve ever seen.”

He shuts his mouth with a click of his teeth, realizing he’s rambling. Karkat hasn’t gotten up and left yet, though, so that’s a pretty good sign, right? He’s been trying to talk less since that shit is mad annoying, apparently, but it’s _hard_. He has so many thoughts in his head.

\---

Karkat definitely sympathizes with Dave about his dyslexia. Having a condition that you can't control, that affects how you get to live your life, is frustrating at best and humiliatingly painful at worst.

Dave keeps talking, though, so Karkat decides not to mention it. And damn, does he ever keep talking. Karkat's just thinking that it seems Dave is rambling on just as much as Karkat was a minute ago, but then Dave abruptly stops talking, closing his mouth with a click. Uh, weird, but okay.

"I'm not huge into anime but I've watched a few of them," Karkat says. "Ouran Host Club was my favorite one, there was some pretty good romance stuff in it. That's probably not a surprise, considering what you know about me."

He shudders. "I can't do horror movies, though, they scare the absolute shit out of me. I tried watching The Ring by myself and couldn't sleep for a fucking week afterward. Never again."

\---

Dave’s face splits into a grin.

“Nah, dude, these movies aren’t like that,” he says, gesturing with his hands. “I’m not into actually scary shit. I mean I can sit through them if Rose twists my arm but I like the hammy ones. The Room is the most well-known, but shit like Birdemic is my jam. You can’t sit through that and be even the tiniest bit scared.”

The thought of Karkat curled up on a couch in a dark room, jumping at every sound coming from a TV screen is oddly endearing.

“Hey,” he says, getting an idea. “You should watch with us sometime! Maybe not John’s pick--he’s on a Nic Cage kick recently--but we’re gonna be watching Fateful Findings next. That one isn’t even horror.”

It’s only after he’s done talking that he realizes that maybe Karkat doesn’t want to sit around watching shitty movies with two dudes he barely knows. That’s not something everyone’s into.

“Or you could like, come hang out and play games?” Dave tries, which isn’t much better. He pulls a stoic expression over his face like a mask to stop himself from wincing. Jesus, and he’s the _better adjusted_ of his siblings.

\---

Dave looks eager to hang out, which is... something. Karkat's just not going to examine the tangle of emotions he's feeling about that right now. But then Dave's face goes kind of blank, which is fucking weird and kind of unsettling. Did Karkat do something wrong? Dave doesn't take back the offer though, he just sits there in silence, waiting for an answer.

Karkat's stomach churns at the thought of hanging out with Dave and his friend. Sure, Dave himself seems to be an exception to the "Karkat falls in love with everyone he talks to" rule, but Karkat doesn't know if his luck will hold out for Dave's friend John or not. It seems like too much to hope for.

He chews on his lip, thinking. His therapist _did_ say he shouldn't distance himself from people just because of his condition. But his Hanahaki specialist basically warned him to never talk to anyone, ever, so. Maybe hanging out just once would be like... a compromise? Is that how it works? Seriously, fuck conflicting medical advice right up the ass.

"I'm gonna be real with you, Dave, making new friends is kind of a fucking health hazard for me," Karkat says. "But I'm also bored as shit and sick of having nothing to do besides study, so. All right, fuck it. Let's 'hang out' and play some games." He uses air quotes and winces. Why does he have to be such a sarcastic fuck all the time?

\---

Dave is caught off guard for a moment, confused about why making friends would be a health hazard, until his brain catches up. Chronic Hanahaki, right. But Karkat didn’t fall in love with like, everyone he talked to, right? He wasn’t hacking up flowers over Dave, after all. ...Why isn’t he hacking up flowers over Dave, if that’s the case?

He doesn’t have time to dwell on this, however, because Karkat is agreeing to come play games with him, even if he uses his small hands to make air quotes, and Dave is back to being all smiles.

“Fuck yeah, dude!” Dave says, standing up and grabbing his bag. “C’mon, I’ll show you my dorm. Are you more of a Mario Party or Mario Kart kind of guy?”

He leads them to his dormitory, passing by the ice cream shop on the first floor with a sigh. He’s still determined to find out what their limit is, but he’s accepted that it’s a long-term type of deal.

Walking into the common area of his dorm room reveals Hal sitting at a desk, hunched over a pile of electronic parts, with Dirk standing over him, arms crossed and watching with a pinched expression. They both look up as Dave walks in, Karkat in tow, and tosses his bag on the couch.

“‘Sup,” Dave greets, sliding his shoes off. “Y’all know my bro Karkat, right?”

He didn’t actually think about his brothers being around. He glances at Karkat, wondering if he’s about to vomit up flowers everywhere. He should probably like, look into this Hanahaki thing if they’re going to be friends.

\---

Wait, they're hanging out right now? Karkat opens and closes his mouth but Dave's already starting to walk away, chattering excitedly. Feeling completely out of his depth, Karkat hurries to catch up with him.

"Definitely Mario Kart. Mario Party has too many rigged minigames, it's complete bullshit," he huffs.

As they walk into Dave's room, Karkat freezes in the doorway, eyes darting between Dirk and Hal. Fuck, he didn't think about this at all.

Maybe he'll be okay for a while, though. He coughed up a fuck ton of petals less than an hour ago, so he's probably got some time before it starts being a problem again. And at that point he can just leave, or whatever. Whatever! It's fucking fine.

Also, it's not like he can really be mad about getting to spend time in his crushes' dorm room. This is like a fucking dream come true, right?

Pretending that awkward moment didn't just happen, Karkat waves at Dirk and Hal and barks out a too-loud, "Hey, guys."

Hal just goes back to what he was doing, but Dirk gives him a cool-guy nod before also turning back to their project. Karkat's heart flutters.

Okay. Maybe this won't be so bad.

\---

Karkat stands there awkward as shit and Dave feels a pang of pity for the guy. He’s like, actually in love with his brothers, right? He must be, if he’s coughing up flowers. That’s how it works, as far as Dave is aware. Is it a bad idea to be around them? But he seems fine for the moment, at least.

Hal’s attention is diverted, but Dirk raises an eyebrow at him and Dave rolls his eyes. Not that Dirk can see it, so Dave makes a little shooing motion out of Karkat’s view as he approaches the tv to get the game set up. This only serves to make Dirk’s other eyebrow raise as well.

Useless brothers.

Dave plops gracelessly onto the couch, waving a controller in Karkat’s direction.

“Dude are you gonna stand there all day?” Dave asks. “Get over here so I can kick your ass.”

A glance at Dirk shows that whatever project he and Hal are working on has once again captured his attention. Hopefully it doesn’t catch on fire again. At least not while Karkat is here. That’s a great way to start off a friendship.

\---

Karkat shuffles over to the couch and sits down, self-conscious of the way the springs creak under his weight. But Dave seems happy to have him here, and his lungs feel okay, so he grabs the controller and settles in, trying his best to forget that Dirk and Hal are standing right in the room, being hot and cute and--ugh, no, _stop_. Focus on Dave.

"Well, I hope you've got a whole pack of toilet paper at the ready, cause I'm about to wreck your shit," he taunts.

Then he remembers he's not actually any good at Mario Kart, and Dave is going to find that out very quickly. Oh well, too late to take it back now.

\---

Dave snorts out a laugh as they pick their characters. Dave chooses Yoshi because fuck yeah little green dinosaur.

He’s actually spectacularly shitty at video games, as Karkat is about to find out. His skills, or lack thereof, are born from a childhood playing only the shittiest, glitchiest pieces of garbage available. He does, however, have a knack for getting his characters stuck in places they should not be able to be stuck.

Karkat keeps glancing over at Dirk and Hal while they play, which is. Yeah. He can’t blame the guy for being distracted while the dudes he’s in love with are like, right there. But he still finds himself pouting after the third race he wins in a row. Or, well, passes the finish line ahead of Karkat, at least.

“What happened to wrecking my shit?” Dave demands. “With talk like that I thought you’d pose something of a challenge.”

\---

Karkat picks Bowser, obviously, because he has a soft spot for the jilted lover trope. Oh yeah, he has a whole backstory headcanon about Peach and Bowser's relationship. Karkat believes that Bowser is actually just a struggling misunderstood single dad who's trying to get his royal bitch of an ex-wife Peach to pay him his damn alimony.

...It's possible Karkat needs to get out more.

He tries to pay attention to the game, but it's really fucking difficult when he can see Dirk and Hal right across the room. For fuck's sake, Dirk's wearing a black tank top that shows off every inch of his delicious biceps. Much as he tries to focus, Karkat's gaze keeps slipping back to the twins.

After the third race, Dave complains about the lack of a challenge (even though he himself is only in 11th place) and Karkat feels kind of fucking bad. He's supposed to be here to hang out with Dave, not to ogle his brothers, jesus. Even as he mentally scolds himself, though, his eyes are drawn back to Dirk who's reaching to grab something, exposing a bit of his stomach. Karkat's eyes widen and he looks away quickly, back to the TV. Fuck, why do these assholes have to be so stupidly hot? And why do they have to be related to the one person on campus who actually wants to hang out with Karkat?

"Sorry to disappoint you," he says. "If I'm being honest, I'm pretty shit at video games. Trash talking is kind of my only gaming-related talent. And I've been, uh, a little distracted today, too."

He taps his fingers on his controller hesitantly. "We could do something else if you want? Like go in your room and hang out, watch a movie or something?"

\---

Karkat’s distracted because of course he is. Dave really needs to think his stupid impulsive decisions through. And as cool and funny as Karkat seems, maybe it’s a bad idea to be friends with him. Dave and his brothers basically live in each others’ pockets, after all.

But Karkat sounds anxious, and Dave can’t just like, kick him out. He dragged the dude all the way here. Besides, Dave doesn’t know why he’s getting all huffy over someone paying attention to his brothers instead of him. It’s happened before and it’ll happen again, because his brothers are fucking awesome. Dave should be glad that people take notice of that, even if it means they overlook him on occasion.

“Sure,” Dave says, standing up and stretching, switching the tv off. He tosses a pillow at Dirk, since Hal has something in his hands. “Don’t burn the dorm down. If I have to talk to Larry the fireman one more time this month I’m gonna lose it.”

He leads the way into the room he shares with D. It smells like weed and chlorine, D’s special musk, and Dave fights to tug the window open to air it out.

“Larry’s great and all, but he keeps showing me all the pictures of his baby he has in his wallet,” Dave explains. “Cute kid but after the third time it just kind of gets old.”

He sits on his bed and grabs his laptop, tabbing away from his ‘serious’ online art portfolio before Karkat has a chance to see. “What movie are you feeling? You wanna get snacks or something first?”

\---

It smells fucking gross in here, and Karkat somewhat regrets the change of location, but he also feels ten times more relaxed now that they're away from the twins. He listens to Dave's bizarre explanation of the fireman thing and his brow furrows in confusion. Is Dave joking? Karkat genuinely can't fucking tell, but he doesn't want to ask and end up looking like even more of an idiot than he already does.

He shrugs at Dave's question. "I pretty much only watch romantic movies, but I could watch something else if your fragile masculinity can't handle watching Legally Blonde or whatever. And sure, snacks sound good. Um, do you mind if I stay in here while you grab them, though? I kind of want to avoid seeing your brothers so I don't start... you know."

He flushes with embarrassment, loudly clearing his throat. His lungs are starting to feel kind of crappy already and honestly he probably should just go home, but he doesn't fucking want to yet. Despite the awkwardness, he's actually having fun hanging out with Dave.

\---

Karkat’s face is all red but he isn’t coughing so Dave’s pretty sure it’s just because he’s embarrassed. He’s not sure _why_ Karkat’s embarrassed; it’s not like he asked to have flowers growing where they shouldn’t, but he doesn’t pry.

“My fragile masculinity can handle more than you give it credit for,” Dave says. “If you wanna watch some lady legally dye her hair knock yourself out.”

He may be playing up his ignorance just a bit to watch the expressions play out on Karkat’s face. He knows vaguely what Legally Blonde is about. A lawyer? Probably? Whatever, Dave gets the opportunity to see Karkat’s face scrunch up, his button nose wrinkling like he smells something bad. Though that might just be the room.

“Be right back,” he says, slipping out of the room before Karkat can spell out what the movie is actually about. Dirk and Hal turn to look at him with dual expressions of disbelief.

“Dude,” Dirk says.

“Hot date?” Hal asks at the same time, smirking.

“Yeah right,” Dave huffs. “Just because everyone else in this family is gay or bi or whatever doesn’t mean I am.”

This is something he digs his heels in about constantly, despite maybe not being as sure about it as he seems. Still, he’ll pull his own teeth out rather than deal with Rose rubbing it in his face for the rest of his life.

“Can you dial back the asshole meter a bit?” Dave complains as he slips on his shoes. “Dude can’t help he’s got a disease. That seems like it’s really shitty to live with, by the way.”

Dirk and Hal look at each other but Dave’s out the door before they’re able to have a full telepathic conversation and gang up on him. He returns to his room about ten minutes later, arms laden with bags of chips, a very hot bag of popcorn pinched between his fingers, and two bowls of ice cream held precariously in one hand, both with a sadly reasonable amount of scoops.

Hal and Dirk have disappeared into their own room, taking their pile of wires with them. Dave carefully pushes open the door of his bedroom.

“Hey dude,” he says. “Didn’t know what you wanted so I got the works. Also I don’t know if this is the right ice cream. Chocolate brownie, right? Should’ve asked before I left.”

\---

Karkat balks at Dave’s completely incorrect description of one of his favorite movies, but Dave’s out the door before he can argue. Motherfucker.

Karkat huffs and then coughs a few times, trying to keep quiet. Ugh, fuck. He considers going to the bathroom and trying to cough up whatever petals have formed over the past hour or so, but he doesn’t want to leave this room and have to see the twins again. Gritting his teeth, he breathes in and out slowly, trying to calm his lungs, willing them to cooperate for just an hour or so longer.

Sitting down on the bed, he grabs Dave’s laptop to pull up the movie, but Dave’s browser is some godawful eye-straining abomination that’s almost impossible to navigate, and Karkat stares for nearly a minute just trying to find the fucking search bar.

He clicks on something that he thinks might be it, and it pulls up a website called “Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff.” Karkat has no fucking clue what this is, but it’s definitely not a search engine. Some kind of webcomic, maybe? He blinks at the garish colors and offensive drawings and clicks away as fast as he can, this time opening a Soundcloud profile with the name “turntechGodhead,” whatever the fuck _that_ means.

Clicking away yet again, he pulls up a normal-looking art portfolio website with some black and white drawings. Karkat’s always liked looking at art, even though he himself is a talentless fuck, and he scrolls curiously through a couple pictures. One of the drawings in particular catches his eye, a portrait that looks oddly familiar.

Wait, is that a drawing of Dirk? It has to be; that hair is unmistakable. Karkat scrolls to the next picture, a detailed drawing of a bird skeleton, signed “D.S.,” and his jaw drops open as he realizes this must be Dave’s portfolio. Holy shit, this is really fucking good, he had no idea Dave could draw. Not that he really knows much about Dave at all, yet, but still.

Hearing the door open, Karkat looks up to see Dave with his arms full of junk food. He stands up quickly to grab the ice cream bowls before Dave drops them.

“Shit, dude, you didn’t have to get so much stuff. Next time I’m buying all the snacks, asshole,” he complains. “And yeah, chocolate brownie works fine, I’m pretty much a slut for anything chocolate.”

He gestures toward the computer. “I _tried_ to set up the movie but your browser is so fucking convoluted I couldn’t even find the goddamn search bar. I did accidentally see some of your artwork, sorry about that. It’s really good though. You’re like… super fucking talented, Dave.”

\---

Dave’s eyes widen as he drops the snacks in his arms onto the bed, his face growing hot. He’s so pale he blushes like he’s got a blistering sunburn and he turns his head away to save Karkat’s poor innocent eyes from the damage.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, clearing his throat.

His portfolio isn’t even _up_ yet, sitting on his computer for weeks as he tweaked the code, looking for a perfection he’ll never find. He knows he _needs_ a public portfolio if he ever wants to do anything with art--and he’s not entirely sure about that, yet--but the idea of people judging shit he spent time on instead of purposefully awful comics he threw together in ten minutes makes him feel cold.

He isn’t even 100% on if those are the pieces he wants to display, and Karkat saw them. And thought they were good? They’re not , Dave wouldn’t go that far, but _super fucking talented_ might be a stretch. Karkat would probably be more impressed with the twins’ schematics or D’s storyboards, anyway.

Once his face feels a bit cooler he scoots onto the bed, pushing aside the snacks and propping himself up against the wall. He grabs his laptop and opens a new tab, pulling up a movie streaming site.

“Did you decide on a movie?” Dave asks, trying to sound casual after acting so fucking uncool about a simple compliment. “Legally Brunette, right? Or did you wanna watch something else?”

\---

Dave turns away but not before Karkat catches a glimpse of his face turning bright red. Oh fuck, he screwed up, didn't he. Dave's probably pissed at Karkat for invading his privacy, is going to kick Karkat out and never talk to him again. So much for having a friend. Mind whirling, Karkat opens his mouth to try and apologize, do some damage control, but stops as he hears Dave's small "thanks."

Karkat bites his lip, confused. Is Dave not mad? What's happening? He waits silently for a few moments until Dave turns around. His face is still pink, but he crawls onto the bed and continues the conversation like nothing happened. O...kay?

Confused but desperate to clear the awkwardness in the room, Karkat follows his lead, sitting down and latching onto the new topic. "It's Legally BLONDE, you smarmy fuck. And yes, it's a fucking travesty you haven't seen this film before, I can't let you go even another minute without watching it."

He waits for Dave to pull up the movie, then hands him his ice cream so he can begin eating his own. He moans happily at the taste, mmm fuck that's some good-ass ice cream.

\---

Karkat doesn’t try to talk about his art anymore and Dave relaxes, even smiling slightly as Karkat corrects his mangling of the movie title. Dave types it in and pulls it up, and Karkat moans like, directly into his ear as he takes a bite of his ice cream, startling a small laugh from Dave.

“Do you need a minute alone with your ice cream, dude?” he asks, pressing play. Karkat shushes him and Dave digs into his own frozen treat.

Dave literally couldn’t give less of a shit about romcoms or romance in general, but the movie is pretty funny. Karkat gives him dirty looks every time he opens his mouth, which only spurs him on more.

“Paulette is definitely the MVP in this movie,” Dave says, noisily opening a bag of chips. “What a fucking icon.”

He throws a chip in the air, trying to catch it with his mouth. It hits his shades and falls to the bed. Dave picks it up and pops it into his mouth, wiping at the crumbs on the lenses of his sunglasses but only succeeding in smearing them.

“Ugh,” he mumbles. “Hold on.”

He turns his face away to slip his shades off and clean them with his shirt, blinking in the sudden light, then puts them right back on before looking back at the screen, his heart beating loudly in his ears. It’s dumb; Karkat coughs up plants on the regular, he probably wouldn’t give a shit even if he did catch a glimpse of Dave’s weird demonic eyes.

\---

Karkat secretly agrees that Paulette is the best character, but he doesn't say anything because Dave needs to learn to shut up during his movies and stop fucking throwing chips at his own face, holy shit.

He notices Dave turning away to wipe his glasses and realizes he still hasn't seen Dave without them.

"How come you wear those sunglasses everywhere?" he asks. "Your brothers do too, right? Is it some kind of, like, moronic family fashion statement?"

He should probably stop insulting Dave but it's so relaxing to be able to talk to someone like this. Just saying whatever he's thinking without worrying about anyone's feelings or the fucking flowers in his lungs. Which, now that he's thinking about it, are starting to feel pretty uncomfortable.

\---

Ah, fuck. Normally Dave would play off these kinds of questions, but doing so would make him feel like an asshole. It’s not like Karkat can hide his ailment behind a sweet pair of shades.

“Partly,” Dave says. “We’ve all got pretty sensitive eyes. Dirk and Hal can get away without wearing shades outside on cloudy days, and D only wears them because he’s high like, all the time, but mine are probably the worst out of all of ours.”

He taps the side of his glasses and smiles.

“They’re a replica of Stiller’s shades,” he says. “John got me the real things but I need prescription because of my weird shitty eyes. The actual ones are up there.”

He points at the shelf above his bed, where the glasses John got him sit in a place of honor, then lets his arm fall and shrugs, feeling oddly vulnerable.

“My eyes are pretty freaky,” he continues, smile turning stiff. “D’s got normal eyes and even the twins can pass theirs off as like, a weirdly light brown if they have to. It’s easier just to wear these and let people think I never get out in the sun.”

\---

Dave's expression turns stiff and uncomfortable as he talks, and Karkat immediately regrets opening his stupid fucking mouth. What is wrong with him, why can't he just be cool for one fucking day??

Wait, though-- "Stiller? As in Ben Stiller, from _Along Came Polly_?" Karkat's eyes widen as he strains his neck to look at the real shades. "Fuck, that's so cool..."

He turns back to Dave. "That sucks that your eyes are so sensitive, though. I guess I got lucky with that particular aspect of my health, I don't have to wear glasses or contacts or anyth--"

His voice is cut off by a hacking cough, and panic rises in his throat as he feels another attack coming on. God, fuck his lungs and their shitty timing.

"Sorry," he croaks. "Be right back."

He books it out of Dave's room, through the thankfully empty common room, and out into the hall, holding his palm to his mouth as he searches for the nearest bathroom. He finds one a few doors down and ducks inside a stall, kneeling over the toilet and beginning to cough up more fucking orange flower petals. His eyes tear up and he's pretty sure it's not just from the pain in his lungs.

\---

Dave’s grin turns more natural as Karkat seems to appreciate his shades, then falls off his face as Karkat covers his mouth and bolts out of the room.

He stares at the open door with concern, but remains in place for a few minutes. When Karkat doesn’t come back he bites his lip, sets his laptop aside, and stands up. Would Karkat want to be bothered while this is happening? Dave can’t imagine so, but he also hates the idea of leaving his new friend to deal with it alone.

He goes to the communal kitchen and fills up a glass of water, then slowly makes his way to the bathroom, hesitating outside the door and listening to the sound of agonizing coughs and gags until he can’t take it anymore and pushes his way inside.

“Karkat?” he asks hesitantly, walking to the stall door. “You okay? I got you some water, dude.”

The only answer is more coughing. Shit, can he even breathe? Does he have his inhaler? Should Dave call someone?

He nudges open the stall door and Karkat turns to give him a watery-eyed glare before immediately turning back to the toilet and hacking up more flowers.

“Hey, uh, sorry,” Dave says. He places the water near the door and wrings his hands. “Just like, flip me off if you want me to go.”

Hesitantly, he edges forward and pats Karkat awkwardly on the back, like he’d wanted someone to do for him when he was drunk and vomiting up his dinner in a stranger’s toilet.

\---

Oh, fucking christ, why did Dave follow him in here? This is so embarrassing. Karkat keeps coughing, his hands braced on the toilet bowl. At least it looks clean. One thing about this disease, it's given him a real appreciation for the people who clean public bathrooms.

He feels Dave patting him on the back, like he's trying to be his mom or something. It's kind of fucking sweet, actually, except that Karkat's in too much agony to appreciate it properly. He doesn't tell Dave to fuck off, though.

It takes several more minutes of nonstop coughing before he can use his inhaler, which he pulls out of his pocket. Then it's a few more minutes of alternating between inhaler puffs and smaller bouts of coughing. When the attack is finally over, he slumps against the wall, completely fucking worn out.

He doesn't trust himself to talk without coughing yet, so he just sits there, miserable and ashamed. He knows it isn't his fault, that his body is just fucked up like this, but it's one thing to think that on an intellectual level, and another thing entirely to actually _believe_ it. Deep down, he still feels like this whole thing is his own stupid fault for being such a pathetic attention-starved loser that he'll fall for just about anyone who gives him the time of day.

His eyes burn and he presses his palms against them, willing himself not to cry. _No wonder you don't have any friends_ , he tells himself. _Fucking look at you. Worthless piece of shit, can't even spend an hour watching a movie without puking up an entire flower shop._

\---

Jesus, this shit is heart wrenching. Karkat’s kind of a little dude, and seeing him hunched in on himself, rubbing at his eyes, just makes him look smaller. Is this what it’s like every time? How often does this happen?

The sound of Karkat’s wheezing, gasping breaths will probably give him fucking nightmares, holy shit.

Dave grimaces, sliding down the wall to plant his ass on the dirty bathroom floor, stretching his long legs out so they go across to the next stall. He grabs the glass of water and uses it to nudge Karkat’s knee, and offers a tentative smile when he sees a dark brown eye peer suspiciously at him through spread fingers.

“Shit, dude,” Dave says. He doesn’t know where to go from there, and Karkat seems to find him mildly annoying even when he hasn’t just thrown up a wedding bouquet, so Dave bites his tongue and shuts the fuck up for once.

\---

Karkat takes the water and sips at it slowly, letting it soothe his raw, aching throat. They sit together in silence for a long while before Karkat attempts to talk.

"S-sorry for interrupting the movie." His voice is rough and shaky. Fuck. He just wants to crawl into bed and cry for an hour.

"If you still want to hang out again sometime, maybe we should use my room instead," he says. "So this doesn't happen again. Well it might still happen anyway, but. I don't know."

He feels so tired, defeated. It seems impossible that Dave would want to keep spending time with him after this, so why even bother talking about it?

\---

For a moment, Dave stares in disbelief, mouth hanging open slightly.

“Dude, don’t worry about the movie,” he says. “Elle and Paulette will be waiting for us when we get back, thanks to this amazing thing called the pause button.”

Fuck, Karkat looks exhausted. He looks like a single touch might cause him to break into pieces. Dave should have thought before inviting him over. Should have realized this would happen.

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” he says. “If you still wanna hang out, I mean. Wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

He picks at his nails anxiously while silence falls again. It sounds like Karkat wants to hang out again, even though Dave spectacularly fucked this up, which is nice.

“Are you okay?”

He sounds so far from his detached, coolkid persona that it takes him by surprise. He needs to pull himself together. Karkat deals with this shit all the time, he’ll be fine. He’s breathing okay now, and drinking water. He’s still pale as a sheet and shaking, but he doesn’t look on the verge of tears anymore so. That’s something.

\---

Dave sounds actually concerned about him, and it's bizarre enough to shake Karkat out of his spiraling self-loathing. People don't usually do that; _care_ about Karkat. Especially not after he's coughed up plants in front of them like a gross, pathetic failure.

Actually, most people wouldn't even have followed him in here, let alone stayed. He's had a couple almost-friends before who seemed to think Hanahaki was something beautiful and romantic, but they left with nauseated expressions once they saw the reality of his condition.

This is... weird. Unexpected.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he says. "Just fucking tired. I already had an attack like, barely an hour ago, so this one hit me a little harder than usual." He attempts at a reassuring smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. "Don't worry about me, man, I'm used to it. Seriously. It's... cool of you to care, though."

Ugh, he sounds so pathetic and needy. He bites his lip and finishes his water, stretching out his limbs. His stomach muscles ache from coughing for so long.

He stands up, leaning against the wall as his head spins and his legs wobble threateningly. "Let's go back and finish the movie. We were almost at the trial scene and that's one of the best fucking parts."

\---

Dave scrambles up when Karkat stands, hand hovering awkwardly in front of him in case Karkat falls or stumbles. He has it under control, though, and Dave’s arm flops uselessly to his side.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, stepping out of the stall and grabbing the empty glass from Karkat. One less thing for him to worry about as he slowly inches out of the bathroom.

Does Karkat really not have friends? He said making friends was a health hazard, but the way he thanked Dave for giving a shit if he kicked the bucket in the bathroom made it sound like he doesn’t have any friends at all. Dave has John, at least. And Jade, and maybe Rose, but he’s not sure if family counts.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as they make their way down the hall, pretending not to be hyper-focused on Karkat’s every move. He has a determined look on his face as he walks, and color is starting to come back to him. By the time they reach the dorm room he looks only vaguely sick and incredibly exhausted instead of on the brink of death.

One of the twins pokes their head out of their bedroom door, mouth opening to say something that’s probably entirely unhelpful. Dave grabs a pillow and chucks it at them, causing the door to slam shut and a loud scoff to be heard behind it. Dave shrugs at Karkat’s incredulous look and walks into his own bedroom, using an arm to shove aside all the snacks before climbing on.

“Ready to finish this?” Dave asks lightly. “I’m incredibly invested.”

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to focus on the movie at all after that, honestly, but he doesn’t think saying so would go over well.

\---

Karkat's eyes widen as Dave yeets a fucking pillow across the room and slams the door shut on his brothers. Dave just shrugs and doesn't bother explaining himself, though, so Karkat follows him silently into his room, too tired to ask what the fuck that was about. It's probably none of his business anyway, just brothers giving each other shit. Not that he'd know what that's like, being an only child, but siblings in movies always seem to be getting into arguments.

Dave asks if he's ready to start the movie again and Karkat nods, settling back onto the bed and leaning against the wall. He covers an ear-splitting yawn as Dave presses start.

The familiar sounds of the movie wash over them, soothing Karkat's nerves. He's seen this movie so many times he could probably recite the script word for word, but he doesn't right now because a) he's fucking tired, and b) that's probably embarrassing and weird.

He's so exhausted that he doesn't even notice himself beginning to nod off. His head droops slightly to the side, almost touching Dave's shoulder as he begins to snore lightly, completely dead to the world.

\---

Karkat doesn’t even last ten more minutes before he’s conked out, snoring and leaning to the side. Dave glances over at him and sighs. He somehow looks more exhausted in his sleep, dark circles Dave hadn’t noticed earlier standing out in stark relief on his face. Hesitantly, Dave scooches off of the bed. Karkat doesn’t move.

He grabs an extra blanket and tosses it over Karkat’s sleeping form. He doesn’t go so far as to tuck it around him, but it flutters down and lays about halfway down his chest. Dave crawls back on the bed and finishes the movie. It’s a lot less entertaining without Karkat constantly telling him to shut his mouth.

When the credits start to roll, Dave shuts his laptop and stares at his new friend thoughtfully. What is he supposed to do now? Karkat looks like he desperately needs sleep, and Dave isn’t sure he’d be able to make it back to his dorm in the state he’s in anyway. He decides to just… let him sleep.

He climbs out of bed once more and gently pushes Karkat’s arm until he flops over onto Dave’s pillow, not even opening an eye. Nodding to himself, Dave grabs his laptop and heads to the common area, dumping the computer on the couch and going over to knock on the twins’ door.

Dirk opens it, looking annoyed. He must have been the one Dave slammed the door on before. Dave doesn’t wait for an invitation, pushing his way inside and collapsing on Hal’s bed.

“Bad date?” Hal asks, voice laced with sarcastic sympathy. Dave flips him off.

“I might be sleeping on the couch,” he sighs.

“Really bad date,” Dirk says. Dave groans.

“Will you two shut up? It’s not a date,” he whines. “Karkat had a coughing fit and passed out. Not like, fainted, he just fell asleep. And I’m kind of a douche but not enough to wake him up after he almost died because you two don’t know how to wear full shirts.”

Dirk and Hal look down at their tank tops, then at each other, and back at Dave. He can feel their judgement. No words necessary.

“I hate this family,” he tells the ceiling.

\---

Karkat wakes up in an unfamiliar room with a stranger standing over the bed, staring at him. He yelps and falls off the bed, then scrambles to his feet and looks around the room. Oh. Right. The Striders’ place. Karkat must have fallen asleep during the movie.

He looks up at the stranger, who looks remarkably like Dave, aside from his rippling muscles, which are _extremely_ visible due to the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt. 

“Hey, are you D?” he asks, his voice cracking horribly. He blames the fact that he just woke up. And also that one of the hottest men he’s ever seen is standing shirtless in front of him, jesus christ, it’s like this whole family is trying to kill him.

“Who’s asking?” The guy’s voice is completely deadpan, just like Dirk and Hal always sound. Dave talks that way a lot of the time, too, but it seems like more affected on him, an unnatural act that’s covering up his real personality.

“I’m Karkat. Dave’s, uh. Friend.” 

“Oh, you’re the lil’ man’s new bestie.” D’s face (he still hasn’t confirmed it, but Karkat’s fairly sure this is D) is completely unreadable. “Yeah, Dirk was tellin’ me about you.”

Karkat shifts uncomfortably. “Well. Nice to meet you.” 

He glances at his phone, which tells him it’s already 4 am. Shit, did he steal Dave’s bed? He totally stole Dave’s bed the whole night, didn’t he. What a great fucking friend he is. “I better get going, I didn’t actually mean to fall asleep here. Uh, is Dave around?”

D tilts his head toward the living room and turns away disinterestedly. Karkat mutters a “thanks” and grabs up his book and inhaler, wanting to leave the room as quickly as possible. He almost bumps into Dave right outside the door and yells, dropping his things on the ground, his heart pounding.

\---

Dave checks on Karkat later that night, but he’s still sleeping like a log, so Dave gives it up and decides to sleep on the couch after all. He plays a few games with the twins before they get bored and go back to their engineering shit, he pesters John and whines about his bed being stolen until John has to sleep, and with nothing else to do, he finally lays down. Sometime in there he has to switch his shades out for his regular glasses because it gets too dark to see.

The couch isn’t that uncomfortable. Dave could probably sleep anywhere, honestly, but the couch isn’t bad. He drops off to sleep pretty quickly and wakes up an indeterminate period of time later to the sound of voices coming from his bedroom. Oh fuck, D must be home finally. And apparently he woke up Karkat, the asshole.

Dave scrambles up, shoving his glasses onto his face, and walks quickly to his door, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Karkat nearly crashes into him, jumping a foot in the air and tossing his shit to the floor. Dave swoops down to pick them up.

“Jesus, dude, keep it down,” Dave says, passing his things back over. “Did D wake you? Sorry about him, he’s kind of a dick.”

“I can hear you, lil’ man,” D says, flopping face first onto his bed. Dave rolls his eyes, reaching around Karkat to grab the doorknob.

“I know you can, dick,” he says, and shuts the door. 

He turns to shoot a crooked grin at Karkat, but instead of his usual grumpy expression he’s greeted with a look of surprise.

“What’s up?” Dave asks. “D didn’t freak you out that much did he? He’s probably high as shit right now. He’s kind of a weirdo.”

\---

Dave's wearing a cute, crooked smile, but that's not what stops Karkat in his tracks. Even in the dim light he can see the bright scarlet red behind Dave's glasses. 

"Whoa, your eyes," he blurts out. Then immediately wants to slap himself, because fuck, how many times has someone pointed out one of his differences and made him feel like shit about it? He knows that's not cool. "Sorry," he says quickly. "They're, um. I like them. Red's my favorite color."

Why did he say that? Dave doesn't care what his favorite fucking color is. _Karkat_ doesn't even care what his favorite color is, that's something people talk about in like, fucking kindergarten, not college.

\---

Dave’s mouth drops open. Blood rushes to his face and he raises a hand to touch his glasses. Circular rims instead of his usual aviators. Fuck. 

The only people who’ve seen him without his shades are his family and some asshole kids back in elementary school. And John, on a singular accidental occasion. Dave keeps them pretty well hidden, keeping his sunglasses on even when it’s hard to see when there are other people around. He can’t believe he fucking forgot.

Karkat doesn’t call him out on having weird, freaky eyes though. He says he _likes_ them, which makes Dave snort.

“It’s cool, dude,” he says, pulling on his neutral expression. His face still feels hot, so it’s probably not very effective, but it makes him feel better to know his panic isn’t on the surface where anyone (Karkat) can see. “I know what they look like.”

They look off-putting as shit. Bright red with weird streaks of pink, framed by wispy white lashes. He can rock the pale skin and platinum blond hair, but the eyes are something he’s always disliked about himself. Even if he’s being nice about it now, Dave can’t imagine Karkat actually likes them. _John_ finds them weird and unnerving, and he’s like the most accepting person Dave knows.

“Are you taking off?” he asks, voice empty, like playing it cool will somehow make him not want to run and shove his shades back onto his face.

\---

Fuck, he embarrassed Dave again. Karkat hates himself so much.

"I'm serious," he insists, even as he's begging himself to stop talking about this. "I mean, it sucks that they're sensitive but they're really pretty."

Stop. Fucking. Talking.

"And yeah, I'm gonna go back to my room now. Sorry for hogging your bed all night like an asshole."

An idea occurs to him, but he's suddenly incredibly nervous to ask. He doesn't want to just wait for Dave to run into him randomly before they can hang out or even talk to each other again, though.

"Hey, uh. Give me your phone," he says abruptly.

\---

Karkat doubles down and calls his eyes _pretty_. His blush darkens and he hears his blood rushing in his ears. Calling his eyes anything but unsettling is already a stretch. _Pretty_ is just an outright lie. The twins have pretty eyes. So do Roxy and Rose, and even D’s dark eyes are nice. _Karkat_ has pretty eyes, dark brown and lined with long, thick lashes. Dave’s eyes are just kind of gross and disturbing, especially with his prescription magnifying them.

He appreciates the effort, though.

“It’s fine,” he says with a shrug, ignoring the compliment entirely. “If I had a problem with it I would have woken you up.”

Karkat asks for his phone--or rather, demands it--and Dave blinks in surprise, eyebrows rising. But he goes to grab it from his charger near the TV, taking the opportunity to switch to wearing his shades. He can barely see but that’s a small price to pay for the feeling of anxiety unknotting in his stomach.

“Here,” he says, passing his phone to Karkat.

\---

Karkat grabs the phone, refusing to chicken out about this. He types in his number, adding himself as a contact, and shoves the phone back toward Dave.

"Here. You can, uh, text me. I mean, if you want to." He hates how desperate he sounds, how pathetic he must look.

He looks up and is surprised to see Dave's wearing his sunglasses again, but chooses not to comment on it this time.

"Okay, I better go. Thanks for hanging out, and like, everything. And don't forget I owe you for the fucking snacks." He frowns, pausing by the door. "And you can pick the movie next time. If you still want to hang out again. No worries if you don't. Uh. Yeah."

\---

With his shades back in place, Dave feels like he’s on much more solid ground. He glances down at his phone and smiles slightly. It grows as Karkat nervously rambles. He wants to hang out again and he gave Dave his number! Dave is the fucking best at making friends.

“Hell yeah, dude,” he says. “I’ll pick out the shittiest movie just for you. And don’t worry about the snacks.”

He grins as he waves Karkat out the door, shutting it behind him and pulling his number up on his phone.

DAVE: sup bro  
DAVE: you dont know what youve done giving me your number like this  
DAVE: i hope youre ready to deal with never ending onslaughts of messages  
DAVE: a perpetual torrent of my thoughts beamed straight to your phone  
DAVE: youll be buried under this shit before you know whats happening  
DAVE: this is dave btw

He grins, walking into his room. D turns his head to squint at him as Dave swaps his glasses again and curls up in bed, setting his phone on the table.

“You make a new friend, lil’ man?” D asks, voice slow with sleep.

“Yeah, dude,” Dave says brightly. D grunts and he lowers his voice. “He’s pretty cool. You talked to him?”

“For a second,” D replies. “That the kid with the flowers? In love with Dirk and Hal?”

Dave turns on his side, staring into the darkness at his older brother. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Be careful, kid,” D says. “Shit can get serious. Don’t get hurt.”

“I won’t,” Dave says, but D’s snoring fills the room. 

D can be kind of a flake unless it comes to swimming, but at least he tries to look out for Dave. His brothers are certainly one of a kind.

\---

Karkat's barely made it to the elevator before his phone is going off in his pocket, vibrating again and again. He pulls it out, thinking it's weird that his mom would be calling him at this hour, but it's not her. It's a string of text messages from Dave. 

Karkat's face breaks into a smile and he types back as he waits for the lift. 

KARKAT: HOLY SHIT YOU'RE EVEN MORE TALKATIVE OVER TEXT THAN YOU ARE IN PERSON.  
KARKAT: ALSO ITS LATE AS FUCK, GO TO SLEEP, IDIOT.

He checks his phone again when he gets back to his room, but there's no new messages. Maybe Dave took his advice and actually did go to bed. He's not sure why he feels slightly disappointed about it, but he doesn't think about it too hard, and sends off one last message.

KARKAT: HEY, UM. THANKS AGAIN FOR TODAY. IT WASN'T ACTUALLY A COMPLETELY NAUSEATING EXPERIENCE. LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU WANT TO HANG OUT AGAIN.

Karkat really hopes Dave wasn't just being polite when he said he'd want to hang out again. 

After he gets ready for bed, he curls under the covers, hugging a pillow to his chest. Despite his anxiety and the wheezing ache of his lungs, he falls asleep feeling happier than he has in a long time.


	2. Never Had A Friend Like Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for disordered eating, body image issues, vomit, and negative self talk
> 
> this chapter gets pretty Real, please take care of yourselves <3

Over the next week or so, Dave discovers that Karkat is fucking hilarious. He swears like a sailor and has a never-ending stream of insults waiting on his tongue. He has way too many opinions about romcoms Dave has never heard of and bitches about the plot holes in the novels he reads incessantly.

They text pretty much constantly, unless Dave is in class or hanging with John. Sometimes even when he’s hanging with John, too. John needles him about wanting to meet his new friend but Dave waves him off by explaining that Karkat is shy. It’s a lie, but Dave’s not about to go talking about people’s medical shit without permission.

Currently, Dave is standing outside Karkat’s dorm room, backpack full of snacks in hand. He sends an ‘i’m here’ text and bangs on the door until it swings open.

“Sup, dude,” Dave says. “I’ve missed your grumpy face. Are you gonna let me in or not?”

\---

The next morning Karkat wakes up from a dream about a shirtless--and possibly other items of clothing-less--D Strider. He has barely a moment to let out an annoyed groan before he’s leaning over the trash can to choke up red petals. Ugh.

He doesn’t tell Dave about the new development, though, because it’s embarrassing and he doesn’t really know how to bring it up in a way that doesn’t sound like he only wants to talk to Dave to learn more about his brothers. He’s starting to get the feeling Dave doesn’t like to talk about them much, or at least not about Karkat’s feelings for them.

And honestly, that’s perfectly fine because Karkat doesn’t want to think about that shit right now, either. For the first time in his life, he’s more focused on a platonic relationship than his own unrequited romantic bullshit, and it’s really fucking nice.

The next few days are among the best of Karkat's life so far. He still has to deal with coughing up petals a couple times a day--now in several different colors--but he has a real, actual friend for the first time in his life, and that means more to him than a whole year without symptoms would. He and Dave text each other nonstop, and Karkat finds himself in a light, happy mood more days than not.

Still, it doesn’t stop him from being anxious as fuck about inviting Dave over to his room. He spends several hours beforehand getting the place ready. He shoves all his medical equipment in the closet, rearranges his pillows and blankets four different ways, brings out his snacks, puts them away, then brings them back out again. Goes to the bathroom to cough up as much as he can manage. Sweats through his t-shirt and has to change it. By the time Dave knocks on his door, Karkat’s anxiously wringing his hands and wondering if he’s made a huge mistake.

He yanks the door open and Dave’s there, looking wonderfully normal and Dave-ish. Karkat immediately feels better.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you very much too. Come on in,” he grumbles, standing aside to make room for Dave.

\---

Dave beams, walking in and looking around. The first thing he notices is that there’s only one bed. The second thing is that this room looks comfy as fuck, and the third thing is that it’s weirdly clean.

“Nice,” Dave says, nodding, toeing his shoes off at the door and glancing at the snacks, neatly set up on a table. He unzips his backpack and lets the junk food fall all over it.

“Oh hey, cookies,” he says, grabbing one and happily shoving it into his mouth. He turns back to Karkat and smiles.

“You got a sweet place here, Karks,” he says. “Must be nice not having a roommate. I’ve bunked with my brothers my whole life.”

It would probably get lonely without them, honestly, but he doesn’t mention that. Though it would be nice to come home and nap on the couch without having to worry about being woken up by a robot arm on wheels gently slapping him in the face while blinking ‘stop hitting yourself’ across a screen.

Weirdly enough, Dave doesn’t see anything to do with Karkat’s Hanahaki problem laying around. Maybe he keeps it all tucked away? Dave did some research when he was supposed to be writing a paper and found out a bunch of shit. Mostly about how shitty living with the disease is.

\---

Karkat stands around, not sure what to do with himself while Dave looks around his room. He's painfully self-conscious, waiting for some kind of criticism, but Dave just starts dumping food on the table.

"Hey asshole, what the hell, I said I was getting the snacks this time!" he complains. Whatever, it's too late now, he'll just have to try to out-snack Dave next time.

Dave compliments his room, and Karkat chews on his lip.

"Yeah, it's been nice having all this space to myself. Sometimes it gets kind of fucking boring--" (and lonely, but he's not gonna say that out loud) "--living alone, but I'll take it over roommate roulette any day. Like the guy across the hall from me, he said his roommate smells like _fish_ all the time and he has no idea why." Karkat shudders. "I'm good by myself, thanks."

"Living with your brothers is probably different though, right, cause you all know each other already? It seems like it'd be pretty nice. I don't have any siblings though, so what the fuck do I know."

He clambers onto the bed, leaving plenty of space for Dave to sit. "So what eye-searing cinematic atrocity did you decide to bring over?"

\---

Dave shrugs. “I guess so. I’ve never lived with a stranger so I don’t have anything to compare it to. My bros are fucking awesome, of course. I’m the luckiest asshole alive, getting to be related to such living legends. They’re also like, kind of weird sometimes, though.”

Like Dirk and Hal’s obsession with horses, or D bringing hookups back to the dorm so Dave has to sleep on the couch and sleep with his headphones in. But it’s whatever. Besides, Dave isn’t supposed to be talking about his brothers, since it might irritate Karkat’s disease.

Dave plops onto the bed and scoots up, leaning against the wall.

“The Room,” he says. “Starting you off with a classic, since you’ve never seen it. There’s even some romance in there. You’ll hate it.”

He takes another glance around the room, frowning.

“First, though…” he starts hesitantly. “And feel completely free to tell me to fuck off and mind my own business but like. Where’s all your shit? For your Hanahaki? Don’t you have like, a nebulizer machine and a CPAP?”

At least, the websites he read said that Karkat should have them. Karkat’s lived with this for awhile, so if he doesn’t have them there’s probably a reason, but it still makes concern bubble in his chest to not have a single hint of any such thing around.

\---

 _The Room_ doesn't sound like that offensive of a movie title, but Karkat's withholding judgment until he watches at least part of it. Dave assures him he'll hate it, so Karkat’s not hopeful.

He startles at Dave's question, ears turning red. How does Dave even know about this stuff?

"Uh, yeah I have them, I just put them away before you got here," he mumbles, waving toward his closet. "Kind of weird looking medical machines and shit, I don't know... thought it might gross you out."

He also made sure to wash his sheets and comforter because sometimes when he wakes up coughing, he doesn't get to the trash can in time and ends up getting flowers all over his bed. But he's not about to tell that to Dave.

Feeling hot and uncomfortable, he leans over to grab a bag of caramel corn and rips it open, stuffing a handful into his mouth so he doesn't have to keep talking.

\---

Dave watches Karkat fidget, his round cheeks turning red, and feels kind of bad for asking. Still, he’s relieved. At least Karkat has that shit. It’s supposed to be important.

“Cool,” he says. “I appreciate the thought, dude, but you don’t gotta hide that shit. I don’t know why you’d think it would gross me out, but it won’t.”

Dave grabs a bag of chips and leans forward to pull up the movie on Karkat’s laptop, hoping to dispel the awkward situation. Dave picked up some cough drops that are in one of the zippered pockets of his bag, just in case Karkat has another coughing fit, but he’ll keep them hidden unless they’re necessary. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it and make Karkat uncomfortable.

“Alright, bro,” Dave says, sitting back and grinning. “Prepare yourself for the shittiest shitshow your pretty little eyes will ever see.”

\---

Karkat doesn't know what to say, but he reserves not to hide his medical shit next time Dave comes over. It is kind of a pain in the ass to put all the tubes and wires and shit away.

The movie starts up and Dave begins chattering away nonstop. It's a strange mixture of irritating and soothing, and Karkat interrupts with frequent comments and questions of his own. It's so different from watching movies with his parents, who shush him if he talks too much.

Also, Dave was right, this is a fucking terrible movie. But... he thinks he kind of gets the appeal of watching something just to make fun of it. Not that he'll ever admit that to Dave.

The credits roll and Karkat's about to suggest another movie, when his lungs start to seize up painfully. He leaps out of bed and kneels in front of the trash can, coughing and spitting out red flowers.

\---

Karkat totally hates the movie, as predicted, but he seems to enjoy ripping it apart, which is the entire point. Dave is feeling pretty fucking good as the movie comes to a close, about to start badgering Karkat into watching another movie with him before he kicks Dave out on his ass, but then Karkat scrambles out of bed, a terrible cough wracking his frame.

“Oh fuck,” Dave says, crawling out of bed to hover anxiously. He pats Karkat’s back like he did before, hand halting for a second when he sees red flowers instead of orange. Flower types are supposed to correspond with who the person is in love with. Is Karkat in love with another person now? What happened to Dirk and Hal?

He doesn’t say anything until Karkat’s taken a few puffs of his inhaler and is sitting with his back propped against the bed. Dave reaches for his bag, pulling out a few cough drops and an unopened water bottle that’s supposed to be packed with electrolytes, and hands them over.

“You good?” he asks, which feels like an incredibly stupid question. He clears his throat. “What’s with the red flowers? Who are they for?”

\---

Karkat stares at the water bottle and cough drops that Dave just produced out of fucking nowhere. Did he bring those over... for Karkat? The thought is so ridiculous he can't even begin to believe it, but he also can't think of another explanation.

Not knowing what else to do, he opens the bottle and chugs some water. It tastes kind of odd and he looks at the label, which states it's full of electrolytes. He frowns as he remembers one of his doctors telling him to drink more electrolytes. How the fuck did Dave think of all this stuff?

He pops a cough drop as well, which has an instant soothing effect. Karkat knows he should be taking better care of himself with this shit, but it's so exhausting to have to think about all the time. Most days he just subsists on black coffee and junk food. It's kind of really fucking nice to have someone looking out for him, and he swallows around a lump in his throat that has nothing to do with his illness.

Dave asks him about the flowers, and he bites his lip, embarrassed.

"It's. Ugh, this is so stupid. I'm seriously so fucking pathetic, what is wrong with me," he groans, covering his face. "It's your other brother. D. Fuck my life, I can't talk to someone hot for thirty seconds without my lungs throwing a shitfit about it for weeks."

\---

Dave’s eyebrows raise and he sits back, frowning.

He wasn’t actually able to find much information about chronic Hanahaki, just people who lived with the effects after getting it. He was under the impression that to have the disease you had to be in real, actual love with someone. But Karkat barely talked to D at all. Maybe he just like, fell in love easily?

That made all of his brothers that Karkat was coughing up flowers over, and Dave feels a twinge of jealousy. Which is stupid. _Beyond_ stupid. He doesn’t want Karkat coughing up flowers over him; he’s seen how much that shit sucks. He’d hate to be the cause of something like that. But still, it’s just another example of Dave’s brothers being better than him. Dave can’t blame Karkat for falling in love with them; they’re fucking awesome.

Dave is awesome too, in his own way. Or at least he pretends to be.

“D doesn’t really do relationships,” he says tonelessly. He didn’t even notice this blankness slip over him. Usually he has to make an effort to pull it on, keep his face and voice flat. Maybe he’s finally getting better at it. “If you’re looking for a hookup, he might go for that.”

The thought makes his stomach squirm uncomfortably, but he tamps it down. If Karkat wants to get his jollies off with D it’s none of his business. It doesn’t mean that Karkat’s using him to get close to his brothers, and even if he is, Dave struck up this friendship _knowing_ Karkat was really only interested in hooking up with the twins. If Karkat ditches him once D pays him some attention it’s no one’s fault but his own.

At least he has John, the straightest straight to ever straight. He thinks Dave’s brothers are cool, too, because they fucking are, but it’s in a detached sort of way. John’s never tried to ditch him for his brothers.

\---

Dave's voice goes flat all of a sudden, the way his brothers always sound, and it's kind of unnerving. Karkat's heard him sound like that a few times, but there's something off putting about it. He prefers Dave's more animated way of speaking, when he lets his guard down, not trying to seem cool or disinterested.

Karkat winces at the idea of a hookup with D. Sure, he thinks D's attractive, but Karkat's never even been on a date with someone before, never been kissed, let alone... _that_. He thinks Dave's misunderstanding something crucial here, but he's not sure exactly how to explain it.

"It's not... It's not like that, really," he tries. "Even if I wanted a 'hookup'--which honestly I don't think I could handle, considering how obsessed with romance I am--it doesn't mean..."

He trails off, then starts again. "Okay, haven't you ever had a crush on someone you barely know? And it doesn't mean you want to do anything about it, it's just your hormones freaking out on you or whatever, right? That's how it is for me, I just get one stupid crush after another, but my body always reacts like I'm ready to fucking propose or something."

\---

Dave blinks, turning this over in his head. Karkat doesn’t want a hookup, which makes sense. Dude consumes romance novels like crazy; he probably dreams about candles and rose petals and shit. A one night stand doesn’t seem like his style.

He doesn’t understand the explanation, however. Dave’s gotten crushes before, obviously, but…

“I thought Hanahaki was all about true love or whatever,” he says, confused. “That’s what the websites said.”

It was a fucking bummer to read about, honestly, especially since they kept showing pictures of Hanahaki victims wasting away, or with roots growing out of control under their skin or out their mouths, and Dave couldn’t help but imagine Karkat in the same position.

\---

Karkat sighs and rubs at his face. "That's how it's _supposed_ to be. The vast majority of people who get Hanahaki only get it one time, and it only happens when they're really, deeply in love."

He laughs, sharp and bitter. "So maybe it's some kind of cosmic joke that I'm one of the rare few whose symptoms show up this way instead. Like a fucking allergic reaction or something. I don't know. There isn't really an explanation for it, at least not right now."

He knows it's completely unappealing to keep talking about himself like this, but it's hard to stop, now that he's started. It's not like this is his favorite subject, but he's never had anyone his age to vent to about it, and the words keep spilling out, beyond his control.

"It's kind of fucked up, but lately I can't stop thinking about this disease, and what it means for me. I think I'm pretty much screwed if I ever do fall in love--the real kind of love, I mean. I'll definitely need the surgery, or maybe even that won't be enough and I'll just fucking bite it. I don't know. God. It's not like I can fix it by worrying about it, anyway, I'm just being a downer for no goddamn reason. Sorry. Fuck. We should watch another movie or something, forget I said any of this mopey shit."

He stands back up a little shakily and starts back toward the bed.

\---

Dave frowns, standing up as well. He waits until Karkat is settled before climbing back onto the bed as well, lost in his thoughts.

So Karkat is affected by crushes, basically? That really fucking sucks. Dave can’t imagine all the flowers he’d be puking up if it happened every time he saw a hot girl walk by. The fact that Karkat is so vibrant and energetic, full of personality even after having fits like this every day is a miracle, as far as Dave is concerned.

“Y’know,” he says casually, dropping another couple cough drops in Karkat’s lap, “there’s no guarantee you’ll get it when you actually fall in love. The deck is stacked against you since your shit is based around crushes, but falling in love is a process, right? So whoever you fall in love with will have time to fall in love with you, too.”

He shrugs, feeling awkward talking about this. He leans forward and says, “So what romcom are you making me sit through next?”

\---

Karkat considers Dave's words. On one hand, it makes a lot of sense. On the other hand, he's spent so much time thinking of himself as unlovable, ugly, unappealing, etc., that it's basically impossible to imagine anyone falling for him, even given a long period of time.

He's both disappointed and grateful when Dave changes the subject.

"Have you ever seen When Harry Met Sally?" he asks.

Dave shakes his head and Karkat grins, pulling up the movie and pressing play.

He settles into the pillows, lungs feeling much better now, and unwraps another one of Dave's cough drops. It tastes like apple, and Karkat hums appreciatively.

\---

Dave settles in to talk shit through another one of Karkat’s movies, reaching over to grab some more cookies and waving one in front of Karkat’s face until he snatches it from Dave’s hand with a scrunched up little scowl. Dave grins.

They hang out a lot over the next month. Dave usually heads to Karkat’s room after class and whenever he needs to get away from his brothers, and they eat a shit ton of junk food and watch movies. Karkat has good days and bad days. On bad days, if he’s still up to hanging out, he’ll just read quietly while Dave fucks around on his phone.

He carries around the electrolyte water, cough drops, and a little thermos of some special tea he read is good for the sore throats Hanahaki causes. The first time he passes it over to Karkat after he spews up a bunch of petals, he gives Dave the weirdest look, but Dave only shrugs and doesn’t offer an explanation.

Karkat never seems to tire of Dave, which is novel. Even John, his best friend, gets sick of him sometimes. Karkat is always up to talk shit with him, though, even if their conversations are some of the stupidest things Dave’s ever had the pleasure of participating in.

Dave still makes time to hang out with John, though. He’s growing more and more eager to meet the friend that Dave keeps talking about, and Dave isn’t sure how much longer he can put it off. At this point he’s not sure _why_ he’s putting it off, except Karkat didn’t seem too keen on the idea when Dave brought it up.

He’s walking with John across campus on a sunny day, sensitive eyes safely protected by his shades, when he spots a familiar slouchy figure and calls out, “Hey, Karkat!” without a second thought.

John perks up immediately, blue eyes glinting with excitement.

“Am I finally going to meet your new friend?” he asks eagerly, digging around in his pocket. Dave knocks the stupid buzzer thing out of his hand when he withdraws it.

“Yes and if you prank him with that he might actually kill you,” Dave says, rolling his eyes as Karkat approaches. John pouts.

\---

Over the next month, Karkat sees Dave nearly every day, and on the rare occasions when they're not either in class or hanging out together, Dave texts him endless streams of messages, which he answers with his own novel-length paragraphs.

Somehow they manage to carry on hours-long conversations about the dumbest shit. Their friendship continues to be completely unlike anything Karkat is used to, and it's fucking amazing.

Dave never gets annoyed or frustrated or grossed out by Karkat’s illness. He sits through attack after attack with Karkat, patting him gently on the back, handing him cough drops and water and fancy tea. He’s steady and dependable, which is not something Karkat would have predicted based on their early interactions.

It gets to a point where Karkat doesn't even feel self conscious about coughing up flowers in front of him. In fact, having Dave around during an attack feels almost more normal than being alone, now, and Karkat finds himself missing his friend’s company when he wakes up choking during the night.

He doesn't try to hit on the twins, or D, again, but his feelings--and flowers--haven't gone away yet, either. It’s kind of a fucking relief, though, to just not worry about it, and wait for the feelings to pass naturally.

Karkat calls his parents and tells them about his new friendship with Dave. They’re not quite able to hide their shock, which isn’t super flattering, thanks, but their happiness on Karkat’s behalf more than makes up for it.

He’s lost in thought one day, walking across campus, when he hears Dave calling his name.

Karkat perks up, waving and heading toward him before he realizes Dave’s standing with a guy he doesn't recognize. Suddenly he feels self conscious of how he must look walking toward them, with his duck footed stance, terrible posture, and soft jiggly stomach.

“Hey Dave, what’s up?” he asks, stepping off the path so he doesn't block the foot traffic. “Who’s this chucklefuck and why’s he looking at me like he just graduated clown school and he's looking for someone to throw a celebratory pie at?”

 _See, this is the reason, Karkat, that you don't have any other friends_ , he tells himself with annoyance. He’s not wrong, though, this guy is giving him the weirdest fucking look. It’s almost enough to distract Karkat from how cute he is. ...Fuck.

\---

John laughs and Dave grins, tossing an arm over his best friend’s shoulder.

“This is John,” he says. “I’ve told you about him. Don’t be too cruel, he’s pathetic enough already.”

John elbows him in the stomach and Dave snickers, watching the friendly boy stick a hand out for Karkat to shake.

“Nice to finally meet you!” John smiles. “Dave hasn’t shut up about you. We were gonna go back to my dorm and play some games. Do you wanna come?”

Karkat looks frozen in place at the offer and Dave gives him a reassuring smile.

“No pressure, dude,” he says.

Will Karkat get a crush on John and start coughing up flowers? So far he’s done so for a frankly alarming amount of people, even excluding Dave’s brothers (no flowers for Dave, though, and he _refuses_ to let that bother him). And John’s a very crush-worthy dude. Not that Dave would know first hand or anything but like. He’s tall, nice, has a welcoming smile. He’s the biggest, nerdiest goober around, of course, but it only adds to his charm.

Thinking about it that way, it’s almost impossible for Karkat _not_ to get a crush on John. His mood dips a bit at the thought. But only because it means he’s going to be rubbing Karkat’s back while he heaves into a toilet about an hour from now. At least he has some more of that tea on him.

\---

Is this a bad idea? This is probably a bad idea.

Karkat looks from John's sparkling blue eyes to Dave's encouraging smile, and fuck, he really, really doesn't want to say no. He's spent his whole life missing out on friendship-based activities, and now that he's had a taste, he only wants more.

Well, he won't know unless he tries, right? And maybe he'll be immune to both Dave _and_ John, how fucking awesome would that be?

"Alright, sure, why not," he says. "But don't believe anything Dave told you about me, he's totally full of shit."

He socks Dave lightly on the arm, then falls into step beside him as they continue walking.

\---

Karkat agrees, to Dave’s pleasure and disappointment. He immediately starts talking shit about him to John, of course.

“Hey! I didn’t say a single bad thing about you,” Dave pouts.

“He said you read so many romance novels you might be the sole cause of a new mental disorder being defined,” John says, immediately throwing him under the bus. Traitor.

They keep up a light chatter as they walk, Dave glancing between John and Karkat, watching Karkat’s face closely. But he seems fine? Maybe? Maybe Karkat’s the one person in the entire world immune to Egbert’s charms. Huh.

They get to John’s dorm and Dave immediately flops on the couch, grabbing a controller and waving it in the air.

“Time to get your ass kicked, Egbert,” he declares. John rolls his eyes, falling into a gangle of limbs next to him and turning on the TV.

“We were gonna play Smash Bros,” John says, tossing a controller to Karkat. “You okay with that?”

\---

John is adorable, holy shit. He's incredibly handsome and laughs at Karkat's dumb, rude jokes, and he seems perfectly happy to have Karkat intruding on his bro-time with Dave.

He follows them into John's room and looks around curiously. The only other person's dorm room he's been inside is Dave's. The first thing he notices is the giant body pillow of Bill Murray in his ghostbusters outfit, and okay, Karkat is not even going to ask about that. Movie posters are slapped up on every wall, and Karkat notes a lot of Nic Cage, which is definitely something Dave warned him about.

He takes the controller from John. "Yeah, I'm okay with it. Just as long as you're okay with crying on Dave's shoulder when I school you both," he taunts.

It's a completely empty threat, he truly sucks at every single video game, but it's all part of the fun. Karkat and Dave frequently get into trash-talking battles that last so long they forget to actually play the game. Sometimes this results in Dave trying to tickle Karkat into submission, and Karkat pinning him down onto the couch--not a difficult feat, considering Dave's only half his weight.

He squeezes onto the couch in the only available spot, next to John. Their thighs press together and Karkat determinedly does not think about it.

The game loads up and he picks King Dedede, then spends the first few matches trying and failing to do his favorite move: inhaling someone and jumping off the platform to kill them both. It's incredibly ineffective and also hilarious.

\---

Karkat is just as bad at Smash Bros as he is at every other game they’ve played, to Dave’s relief. John kicks both their asses over and over, despite Dave and Karkat’s increasingly ridiculous trash talk.

Dave is the first one to crack, reaching over and pulling John’s glasses off his face and holding them out of John’s reach while he yells, “Karkat quick! While he’s distracted!”

John tackles him and they fall to the floor, struggling for the glasses until John manages to snatch them out of Dave’s hand and sit on his stomach, grinning victoriously and reaching back over to grab the controller. It’s too late, however, because Karkat’s already won the match. Dave cheers weakly and slaps ineffectively at John’s leg.

“Get off of me, you big lug,” Dave wheezes.

“You guys suck,” John whines, crossing his arms as he stands up. There’s still a wide smile on his face as he helps Dave off the ground, though, and Dave smirks.

“Don’t be a sore loser, Egbert,” Dave teases.

\---

Karkat looks away from the victory screen and a grin splits his face at the sight of John sitting on top of Dave. The whole situation is just so stupid and funny and wow, he really, really likes hanging out with these guys.

John's fake-pouting, his arms crossed, biceps straining against his t-shirt sleeves, and Karkat's heart thumps pathetically.

Suddenly and without warning, his lungs seize up and he hunches over with a rattling breath. His eyes squeeze shut as his body wracks itself over and over, spewing petals all over the floor of John's room. Fuck, _fuck_ , he tries to stop himself, to cover his mouth, but it's too late.

With horror, he looks down and sees the petals are a bright blue color--the same exact shade as John's eyes.

\---

Everything is going fantastic until Karkat leans over and coughs up a slew of bright blue flowers. Not orange or red or the pink from the girl at the library or purple from the dude at the pizza place, but a blue Dave hasn’t seen before. Dave’s laughter dies on his tongue and his heart sinks. Guess Karkat isn’t immune to John’s charms after all.

“Holy shit,” John says, eyes wide. “Are you okay?!”

Karkat nods but keeps coughing, shaking so hard he looks like he’ll fall apart. Dave grabs John by the shoulders and pushes him to the door. John lets it happen, completely bewildered.

“Give us like twenty minutes, dude,” Dave says. “He’ll be fine.”

He effectively kicks John out of his own room when he shuts the door on his worried face. Dave grabs the small trashcan and hands it to Karkat, sitting next to him and rubbing his back while he coughs.

\---

Karkat takes the trash can gratefully, hugging it between his knees as Dave rubs comforting circles into his back.

Dave's so fucking good, too good for Karkat, that's for sure. He invited Karkat over to his best friend's place only for Karkat to puke up his shitty flowers everywhere, and now he's not even getting mad about it. He's just sitting there calmly and quietly, helping Karkat through one of the most humiliating situations of his life.

Karkat can't believe he thought he could handle hanging out with someone new. He's such a fucking idiot. It really sucks, too, because he likes John a lot! Well, obviously he does, that's the entire fucking problem, but he doesn't just like him _that_ way. He was having fun hanging out as friends, too. And now he won't be able to do that anymore.

Not that John will want to see him again, anyway, considering the mess Karkat made of his room.

When his lungs are finally empty, he leans back against the couch, lip trembling and blinking away tears, trying to hold himself together. It's not fucking _fair_. Why does he have to have this stupid, shitty disease that ruins his entire life?

He chokes out a single sob and buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with the effort of holding back his blubbering. He can't stop the tears from falling, though, and they trickle down his face, traitorous droplets soaking into his shirt sleeves.

\---

When Karkat’s coughing slows down, Dave reaches to the floor to scoop up handfuls of petals and add them to the pile in the trash, but freezes when he hears a sob. His head snaps up and he watches with horror as Karkat hides his face, his shoulders shaking as he lets out heartbreaking cries.

Oh fuck. What does Dave do? He’s always been terrible at dealing with tears. And he hasn’t seen Karkat cry before; his eyes will water and a few tears will slip out, but it’s always been a physical thing from coughing so much. He’s never broken down like this.

Dave gets up to fumble with his bag, pulling out his little thermos of tea. Hopefully it’s kept it hot. He nudges Karkat’s shoulder with it.

“What’s with the waterworks, dude?” he asks. His voice sounds nervous instead of calm, which probably isn’t helping.

\---

Karkat just shakes his head and cries even harder. His whole face is a disgusting, soggy mess, and he can't fucking stop. All he can think about is how much he wishes he were fucking _normal_ , and how he'll never get to be. The only way he'll stop getting Hanahaki is for him to fall in love with someone who falls for him back, which he doubts is ever going to happen.

Feeling completely pathetic and helpless, he leans against Dave's shoulder, taking some small comfort in the fact that Dave doesn't pull away.

\---

Karkat doesn’t accept the tea and Dave bites his lip. He leans into Dave and Dave hesitantly lifts his arm, wrapping it around Karkat’s shoulder in a sort of side-ways hug. Karkat doesn’t snap at him, so after a few seconds Dave lets his arm relax and Karkat sags against him, still crying.

“If you’re worried about John you don’t have to be,” he says, taking a shot in the dark. “He’s just a big sweet nerd. He won’t be mad or anything. And you don’t gotta feel bad for having a crush on him. He has that effect on people.”

He slowly, awkwardly moves his hand up and down Karkat’s arm, hoping it’s at least a little soothing. He’s completely out of his depth here, and listening to Karkat’s gasping sobs makes his heart clench. He feels useless.

“C’mon, dude,” he says, giving Karkat a little squeeze. “Talk to me. What’s going on in your head?”

\---

Karkat lifts his head, sniffling and violently rubbing at his eyes with his fists.

"How can he not be mad?" His voice is thick and he hiccups. "I just regurgitated my stupid feelings all over his room, and he doesn't even _know_ me. From my admittedly limited experience, people don't like it very much when you puke flowers all over their fucking room. Why aren't _you_ mad at me for this?"

He wants to believe it, but he just can't. He's had too many people act like they want to be his friend at first, then ditch him after they realize a) his personality actually _is_ that awful, and b) he can't fucking keep his feelings to himself. Because if there's one thing Karkat Vantas knows, it's that he deserves every shitty thing that happens to him.

"I'm so tired, Dave. I'm just so fucking tired and my lungs hurt all the time, and I'm such a pathetic loser asshole piece of shit. I'm so sick of myself it hurts."

He shakes his head, tears trickling down his face.

"I'm sorry I'm like this. You-- you don't have to keep hanging out with me, okay? I know you didn't sign up for this shit, you didn't realize the mess you were getting into. I'm not worth your fucking time."

\---

“Hey, woah,” Dave says, taken aback by both the words and the ferocity behind them. “Slam the brakes there, man.”

Does Karkat really think that way about himself? Dave knew he didn’t have the best self esteem, and he was kind of lonely, but he didn’t think it was that bad.

“Shit, okay,” he says. “Let’s take this from the top. John won’t be mad, I promise. He’ll be worried and he might feel bad once he realizes what happened but that’s all. We’ll pick up before we leave and everything will be fine.”

“And why would I be mad about this?” Dave frowns. “It’s not like you went and thought, hey, you know what would be a fun time? Painfully coughing up flowers multiple times a day. This isn’t something you _chose,_ dude.”

And now for the harder part.

“You aren’t any of those things,” he says firmly. “I only hang out with the best people, okay? You’re fucking hilarious and you care about shit so much. I can’t imagine giving half the shits you do about a single topic, let alone so many. You’re really smart, too, and I’m pretty sure you could talk circles around my english professor sleep deprived and stoned out of your mind.”

He takes a breath, feeling his cheeks grow pink, but he thinks it’s important that Karkat hear this.

“Maybe I didn’t know exactly what all this Hanahaki stuff meant when we started hanging out,” he says. “But that’s not like, all you are. You’re definitely worth my time, dude. You’re my friend and unless you plan to explicitly tell me to fuck off you’re gonna be stuck with me for awhile.”

He pulls a tentative smile on his face, hoping all that helped even the tiniest bit.

\---

Karkat feels vulnerable, raw, his nerves worn and frayed. The things Dave is saying are... they're really nice, but they don't seem like they can be true. Not with what Karkat knows about himself. He's sure Dave believes what he's saying, but Dave just doesn't know him well enough. He'll get sick of Karkat sooner or later and realize he was wrong.

Karkat knows it's stupid as fuck to mope about that when it hasn't even happened yet, though, so he tries to pull himself together. For his sake and for Dave's, who seems distinctly uncomfortable.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on breathing evenly until the last of his hiccuping sobs have faded away. He wipes his face and turns to Dave. "Um, thanks. For saying all that stuff. I don't know if I can... I mean, it's hard for me to think positively about this shit, you know? But I'll try to stop freaking out about it so much at least."

He returns Dave's smile, small but sincere.

"I'm definitely not going to tell you to fuck off, either," he says. "I really like having you as a friend. Not like you need to hear me say that, it's basically the most obvious thing in the world, aside from my stupid romantic feelings for everyone. But whatever, I'm saying it anyway."

Karkat hoists himself off the couch and offers Dave a hand. "Guess I better clean up before these flower petals start to stain anything."

\---

Karkat doesn’t believe him, but that’s fine. Dave has time to change his mind.

He frowns when Karkat stands up, grabbing his hand and giving it a light tug, sending Karkat falling back to the couch.

“Chill, dude,” he commands, getting up and grabbing another handful of flowers to toss away. They’re kind of wet. Gross. “You’re not supposed to do shit for at least half an hour after this. Drink your tea.”

He pushes Karkat back down when he tries to stand again. Karkat can generally overpower Dave pretty easily, but not when he’s all weak and shaky from coughing his lungs out. Dave makes quick work of the petals strewn across the floor, then even does John a solid by changing the little plastic garbage bag. He tosses Karkat a smile when he’s done, pulling out his phone and sending a quick text to John explaining what happened and that he can head back to his room now.

“John will be on his way back soon,” Dave says, tucking his phone away. “Wanna head back to yours and watch a movie?”

\---

Karkat makes a noise of indignation as Dave forces him down onto the couch and starts cleaning up by himself.

Is he really not supposed to do stuff for half an hour after an attack? That can't be right, how would he ever get anything done? He's basically always either just getting done with an attack, or about to have one. He's learned better than to argue with Dave about this shit, though, so he stays quiet and opens the thermos, sipping at the tea inside. It's still warm and tastes nice, soothing his throat.

For the hundredth time he's taken aback by how kind and sweet and caring Dave is, how he's always looking out for Karkat, taking care of him without being controlling or condescending. Fuck, why couldn't he fall for Dave instead of someone he barely knows? Except, he knows that Dave couldn't reciprocate his feelings--Dave's mentioned several times how he's "the only straight one" in his family. Yeah, it's definitely for the best that Karkat's not crushing on him, and he's determined to keep it that way.

He stands up when Dave's finished, feeling tired but no longer on the verge of tears. "Yeah, that sounds good. I think it's your turn to pick the movie, too. Can we stop and grab some ice cream on the way?"

\---

Dave grins, leading the way to the door, trashbag in hand. He dumps it in the first larger trash can he sees.

“Hell yeah, bro,” Dave says. “I don’t know what their limit is but I _will_ find it. So far I’ve gotten like seven scoops at once and no one’s batted an eye.”

Luckily Dave’s metabolism is impossible or he’d definitely be putting on a shit ton of weight. Not that that would be a bad thing, since he’s so skinny to begin with.

Dave gets eight scoops and Karkat gets two. The girl behind the counter raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything about it and Dave huffs. He’ll have to up his game.

He makes Karkat watch Rubber, gleefully talking about the themes and motifs until Karkat tries to smother himself with a pillow. His friend is in a much better mood and Dave sneakily texts John to tell him not to make a big deal out of it if he runs into Karkat again.

The next day, Dave wakes up with a sore throat and whines about it like a baby. He gets sick maybe once a year and it’s the most miserable week of his life every time. At least he’s already stocked up on cough drops thanks to Karkat. He doesn’t feel too awful yet, so he still goes to class and picks up some cold medicine afterwards. He even tries some of the tea he keeps making, but scrunches his nose up in distaste. Apple juice is way better.

He and Karkat are supposed to hang out again but Dave doesn’t want to risk him catching his cold so he goes back to his dorm and curls up miserably under a pile of blankets, texting him nonstop and chewing on cough drops like they’re candy.

\---

Karkat tries to convince Dave to let him come over and help take care of him. After all, how many times has Dave taken care of Karkat when he's having a Hanahaki attack? But Dave is insistent that he doesn't want to share his cold, so Karkat resolves to keep him entertained from a distance.

He heads right back to his room after class and fills his instant kettle to make a pot of that tea Dave's always pouring down his throat. It's actually not bad, a little earthy maybe, but he's developed a bit of a taste for it. He pulls out his phone and messages Dave while he waits for the tea to brew.

KARKAT: I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU GOT SICK THE DAY WE'RE SUPPOSED TO WATCH THE NEW WILL SMITH MOVIE.  
KARKAT: IF I DIDN'T KNOW HOW MUCH YOU LOVE MAKING FUN OF MY MOVIES, I MIGHT BE SUSPICIOUS YOU WERE FAKING ILL TO GET OUT OF WATCHING IT.  
KARKAT: AND DON'T WORRY, I WON'T WATCH WITHOUT YOU. MY WILL SMITH MOVIE WATCHING VIRGINITY IS RESERVED FOR DAVE STRIDER ALONE.  
KARKAT: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? IS ANYBODY EVEN THERE TO TAKE CARE OF YOU OR MAKE YOU SOUP OR ANYTHING? I STILL WISH YOU'D LET ME COME OVER.

\---

Dave smiles, shuffling further down in bed as Karkat texts him. He’s such a fucking worrywart.

DAVE: im touched bro  
DAVE: waiting to watch your will smith movie til im there  
DAVE: you cant see but im totally swooning right now  
DAVE: but nah im not faking  
DAVE: got a nasty fuckin cough and it sucks  
DAVE: this happens every year ill be fine in a few days  
DAVE: and no everyones out doing their own shit  
DAVE: but im a big boy i can make my own soup dont worry karkie

Dave has not made his own soup. You’re not supposed to starve a fever, but Dave is spectacularly lazy when he’s sick, and his brothers have better things to do than make sure his stupid ass doesn’t starve to death. It’s fine, though, Dave gets through it every time without fail.

He coughs again, loud and painful. It’s been tickling in his throat for hours now, and he has a massive headache because of it. This time, though, the coughing doesn’t stop. Dave sits up, chest aching as he coughs louder and harder, his eyes watering behind his shades, hand covering his mouth.

Until finally he feels something wet hit his hand. He grimaces, reaching for a tissue, but when he goes to wipe off the offending wad of mucus he is instead met with the sight of a red petal in his hand.

What the fuck?

He stares at it with dawning horror, distantly recognizing the sound of his phone vibrating. He reaches a shaky hand out to poke at the petal. It’s soft and wet and very, very red. It looks like a rose petal.

“Oh fuck,” Dave rasps to the empty room.

He coughed up a fucking flower. His chest is aching, his throat tickling and burning, but he doesn’t have a stuffy nose or even a fever. And even as he tries to deny it there’s only one person who springs to mind when he tries to figure out _who_.

What the fuck is he going to do?

\---

Karkat's eyes narrow at his phone as he holds back a smile.

KARKAT: I KNOW YOU *CAN* MAKE YOUR OWN SOUP, BUT DO I TRUST YOU TO ACTUALLY DO IT? NO, DAVE, I DO NOT.  
KARKAT: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'VE LOST EVEN A SINGLE POUND BY THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU, I'M DRAGGING YOUR ASS STRAIGHT TO MCDONALD’S.

He pours himself a mug of tea and sits down at his desk, grabbing a textbook and starting on some homework. Fifteen minutes pass without a reply from Dave. Karkat knows he can't possibly have starved to death in that short amount of time, but he's still a little worried about his friend.

KARKAT: I HOPE YOU'RE BEING QUIET BECAUSE YOU'RE EITHER ASLEEP OR EXTREMELY FOCUSED ON EATING YOUR SOUP.

Another couple minutes go by. Karkat tells himself he has literally no reason to freak out, Dave just has a cold, he's probably safer right now than he would be on a normal day hanging around with his chaotic older brothers.

KARKAT: HEY, ARE YOU OK? DON'T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE AND MAKE SURE YOU HAVEN'T HIT YOUR HEAD ON A LOOSE ROBOTIC ARM OR SOMETHING, BECAUSE YOU KNOW I WILL.

\---

Dave allows himself a few moments of wild, uncontrolled panic. Then he pulls himself the fuck together and looks up the number for his clinic. Striders don’t go to the hospital often, but Dave’s done enough research on this to know it’s serious. A nurse answers and tells him to go to the Emergency Room.

So Dave crawls out of bed, changes out of his jammies, and calls an Uber.

By the time he’s sitting in the back of the car he feels oddly detached, like he’s watching the world play out on a movie screen. He feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and pulls it out with clumsy fingers. It’s Karkat. Because of course it is.

DAVE: sorry bro  
DAVE: just taking advantage of the alone time  
DAVE: yknow how it is  
DAVE: or i guess you dont since you have a room all to yourself  
DAVE: you can whack one out whenever you want  
DAVE: lucky asshole

Why. Why is he like this. It’s like watching a trainwreck except the trainwreck is him. He coughs again, but it’s a pitiful sound compared to the fit he had earlier.

He gets to the ER and checks in, sitting in an uncomfortable chair while he stares at his phone and feels like his life is ending.

\---

It takes Karkat a minute to figure out what Dave's implying, but then he lets out a sharp, embarrassed laugh.

KARKAT: WOW, THANK YOU DAVE, I *REALLY* WANTED TO KNOW THAT. ALSO, I'M SO GLAD YOU'VE PUT THIS MUCH THOUGHT INTO HOW OFTEN I CAN '"WHACK ONE OUT."

Dave makes dirty jokes all the time, but they're not usually about _himself_ , which is the only reason Karkat's cheeks are hot right now. Dave's his friend, he doesn't want to think about him doing... _that_. Why is he doing that when he's sick, anyway? Or maybe he's just joking, after all. Karkat's notoriously awful at being able to tell when people are joking, especially over text.

KARKAT: UM. MOVING PAST THAT.  
KARKAT: HAVE YOU DECIDED WHAT CLASSES YOU'RE TAKING NEXT QUARTER?  
KARKAT: WE'RE SUPPOSED TO SIGN UP NEXT MONDAY AT LIKE FIVE A.M., SO LET ME KNOW IF YOU NEED ME TO COME OVER AND DRAG YOUR LAZY ASS OUT OF BED.

He sets his phone aside, still feeling a little warm around the ears, and goes back to reading his textbook.

\---

They call him back. They ask about his symptoms. Dave shows them the rose petal. They leave him in the room alone for awhile and Dave fiddles with his phone.

DAVE: no i havent  
DAVE: id appreciate that

He can’t bring himself to say anything more, and he sits in silence until the nurse comes to take him for an Xray of his lungs.

It takes hours, all told, until a doctor comes in to tell him what’s up. She’s older, and looks as exhausted as he feels, but she gives him a smile as she introduces herself. She gives him the rundown on Hanahaki, which he already knows most of. She asks about the ‘object of his affections’ and he’s as honest as he can bring himself to be.

“I suggest you talk to him,” she says. “Confess your feelings. Hanahaki is a very fickle disease. If he doesn’t return your feelings, however, it would be for the best to distance yourself from him.”

Dave already knows he can’t do that. He’d already promised Karkat that he’ll be sticking around, and he can’t just abandon him. Karkat doesn’t have anyone to fall back on. Dave really is his only friend.

“Okay,” he lies.

Dave walks out of the hospital with a referral to see a specialist in a month and two prescriptions for the nearby pharmacy. One for some pills and the other for his own shiny new inhaler. Dave picks them up and shoves them in the bottom of his bag, then walks around for another hour, ignoring his phone.

He’s in love with Karkat. Real, actual love, not the shallow crushes Karkat gets on everyone but Dave. Which stings a lot more, now that it’s brought to the surface. Why _not_ Dave? What is Dave lacking that everyone else has in droves?

He thinks about it hard, running through every person he’s seen Karkat cough up flowers over. After a long time of this, he comes to the regrettable conclusion that the only thing that they have in common is that they’re all… hot.

Dave isn’t hot. He’s passable, with his shades on. But he’s skinny and tall and lanky. He doesn’t have the physique his siblings do. He doesn’t have John’s pearly white grin or the soft, shiny hair that the girl from the movie theater had. He has veins that are too visible beneath his skin, thin lips, and weird spindly fingers.

He can’t really help those things. If he wants to have even the smallest chance, though, he has to do something.

Dave heads home with a half-formed plan in his head.

\---

Dave's last reply is short and terse, completely unlike his usual rambling strings of text. Did Karkat fuck something up? Probably, but for once he has no idea what it could have been.

KARKAT: OK, I'LL SET MYSELF AN EARLY ALARM FOR IT.  
KARKAT: WE CAN LOOK AT THE CLASS CATALOGUE TOGETHER LATER THIS WEEK TOO IF YOU WANT. I HAVE A COUPLE POTENTIAL CLASSES PICKED OUT BUT I NEED TO FIND SOME BACKUPS IN CASE THEY FILL UP TOO FAST.  
KARKAT: YOU KNOW, ITS HONESTLY SUCH BULLSHIT THAT WE SPEND THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS A YEAR TO BE HERE, AND THEY STILL HAVE THE ABSOLUTE *AUDACITY* TO FORCE US TO WAKE UP AT AN UNGODLY HOUR, LOG INTO A MUSTY ASS WEBSITE THAT LOOKS LIKE IT WAS BUILT IN THE EARLY NINETIES, AND RACE EACH OTHER TO GET INTO THE CLASSES WE NEED, FUCKING HUNGER GAMES STYLE.  
KARKAT: "MAY THE WIFI CONNECTION BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOR."  
KARKAT: I SWEAR TO GOD, THE MORE I THINK ABOUT THE AMERICAN HIGHER EDUCATION SYSTEM, THE MORE IT LOOKS LIKE A THINLY VEILED SCAM TO CREATE A MIDDLE CLASS PERPETUALLY HANDICAPPED BY DEBT AND SIMULTANEOUSLY GIVE US AN UNEARNED SUPERIORITY COMPLEX OVER ANYONE WITHOUT A FOUR-YEAR DEGREE, TO SABOTAGE ANY SYMPATHY WE MIGHT HAVE THAT COULD LEAD TO, I DON'T KNOW, ANY ACTUAL POSITIVE SOCIAL CHANGE?  
KARKAT: I KNOW, I KNOW, I THINK EVERY MAJOR ESTABLISHMENT IS A THINLY VEILED SCAM TO PERPETUATE CLASS WARFARE. BUT THAT'S BECAUSE THEY ALL *ARE*, DAVE!

Karkat goes back to his homework, occasionally checking his phone (even though it's on vibrate and he would definitely hear it if Dave texted), but Dave doesn't reply again for several hours. When he does, he tells Karkat he was taking a nap and is about to try to sleep some more. Karkat yells at him to eat more soup and grumpily bids him goodnight.

The next day, Dave is still sick, so Karkat spends the afternoon alone in his room again. They text back and forth a bit, but Dave seems tired and not quite himself, so Karkat tells him to get some rest.

The following day Dave tells him he’s _still_ sick. Karkat doesn’t want to go straight home after class, though, so he takes the long route home, stopping by his favorite coffee shop on the way. The weather has turned crisp and windy, and he crunches through the swirling leaves on the ground, sipping at his mocha, double tall with whipped cream and extra chocolate. It’s fucking delicious. He wishes Dave were here to make fun of him for drinking literally anything besides apple juice, the weirdo.

He glances through the big glass windows of the gym as he passes by, and his eyes catch on a familiar, unmistakable face. He frowns, stopping in front of the window, and stares openly at Dave Strider sitting on a chest press machine, his face bright red and sweaty with exertion.

Without even thinking twice, he walks inside, shows his student ID at the counter, and stomps right over to Dave, clearing his throat loudly.

“Ex-fucking-scuse me, what in the horseshitting ass do you think you’re doing here, out of bed, Mr. ‘I’m too sick to heat up my frozen macaroni so I’ll just eat Doritos for dinner again’?!” he shouts, not caring that everyone in the room has turned to look at them.

\---

Dave puts his plan in motion the next day. He wakes up criminally early, steals some of D’s gross protein powder to make himself a pitifully unfulfilling breakfast, and goes on a run. Or, he tries to go on a run. He ends up panting after a minute of jogging and has to switch between walking and a slow jog until he gets a stitch in his side and collapses on the grass.

Fuck, he’s so out of shape. No wonder Karkat isn’t interested in him.

He drags himself back to his dorm to shower, and his brothers give him shit for being out of bed so early. They give him more shit when all he eats for lunch is a salad, but he shrugs them off.

Salads are healthy. If Dave wants to get in shape and impress Karkat he’ll be choking down these sad leafy greens for awhile. He also gives away his junk food, and mournfully throws out the rest of his apple juice. Even though it’s a fruit juice it’s still hella unhealthy.

He talks to Karkat, but it’s not as much as he’s used to. He has to keep taking breaks between replying when he feels his throat start to tickle. He throws up two more petals that day and remembers that he has to take his pills.

Another run that night, after a salad for dinner, and again the next morning. His stomach keeps growling but there’s probably an adjustment period, right? It’ll get over it.

He goes to D’s gym and fucks around with equipment that afternoon. He’s red-faced and covered in sweat embarrassingly quickly, but he presses on, even when his arms start to tremble.

Then Karkat storms in, face pinched with anger, and Dave’s heart pounds loudly in his ears.

“Hey dude,” he says, slipping into his indifferent mask without a second thought. “Started feeling better. Thought I’d hit the gym. ‘Sup?”

\---

Karkat's eyebrows are practically welded together. "Since when do you 'hit the gym'?? Also, you texted me you were too sick to hang out less than an hour ago, dumbass, so I really don't think you should be here doing this weight lifting bullshit!"

A thought occurs to him and his face twists, his voice getting slightly (though not very much) quieter. "Wait, are you even sick at all? Or did you just, like... not want to hang out with me?" He ignores the sharp pang in his chest, frowning at Dave. "You could have told me if you wanted some alone time, dude, I would have understood."

 _It was only a matter of time_ , he tells himself, biting his lip. _You knew this would happen, so don't you dare fucking break down and cry about it like a little baby._

Hoping against hope that he's wrong, he stays standing in front of Dave, his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation.

\---

Dave’s eyes widen. Karkat sounds hurt and oh man that was not his intention at all. He stands up, gathers his shit, and jerks his head towards the door, indicating for Karkat to follow him. He feels disgusting; covered in sweat and panting and this is absolutely not how he wants Karkat to see him. He gets a delayed headrush and blinks spots out of his vision, trying not to sway too obviously.

“It’s not like that,” Dave says when they’re standing outside, away from prying eyes and listening ears. “I was sick, dude, I promise. I… still kind of am, I guess.”

He shuffles his feet, feeling ashamed.

“I felt a bit better last night and I’ve been kind of meaning to like, try getting in shape and shit for awhile,” he says. Those are both true, but it still feels like a lie. “It’s just. I dunno, embarrassing, I guess?”

Also true. Very, very true, in fact.

“I kinda wanted to keep it a secret until I wasn’t so obviously pathetic at it,” he says, shrugging. “My brothers are already teasing me about trying to eat better.”

Karkat is looking a little less like a kicked puppy and Dave sighs, reaching up to run a hand through his sweaty hair.

“Sorry I lied to you, dude,” he says. Finally, something that doesn’t feel like a fib.

\---

Karkat's flooded with relief at Dave's sheepish explanation, although he has no idea why Dave would be embarrassed about wanting to get in shape. Karkat himself is certainly in no place to judge, having been horrendously out of shape for his entire life.

He frowns again, noticing for the first time how shaky and exhausted Dave looks, his arms hanging wiry and thin at his sides. Dave mentions his brothers and Karkat's heart doesn't even flutter; he only feels annoyed at the way they're treating Dave, teasing him instead of taking care of him when he's sick.

"What exactly have you been eating?" he asks, poking at Dave's bony ribcage under his t-shirt. "You look even skinnier than the last time I saw you, man."

\---

Karkat doesn’t seem mad anymore, which is a relief. But his concern and the way he pokes at Dave’s torso makes him clear his throat, trying to ignore the tickle he feels. He doesn’t need this.

Karkat saying he looks _skinnier_ isn’t very uplifting. It’s only been like two days, though. It’ll take awhile to build muscle, right? If Dave’s stupid metabolism will even _allow_ him to gain muscle.

“Oh, uh, y’know,” Dave shrugs. “Protein shakes, salads. A shit ton of water. Healthy shit. No soup though, sorry bro.”

God, talking about food is making him hungry. He has half a protein shake left in his bag but he was gonna save that for dinner before swinging by a store to get some of his own powder so D doesn’t actually murder him.

\---

Protein shakes and salads? Karkat's not a nutritionist but that doesn't sound quite right.

"I really think you're supposed to be eating more than that. I mean, even if you weren't going to the gym, that still probably wouldn't be enough food, but you're burning even more calories by working out on top of all that." He's actually kind of worried now.

"Seriously, Dave, what the fuck am I going to do with you? You get sick for two days and you lose your goddamn marbles." He shakes his head. "Come on, let's go back to your room, you can take a shower and I'll grab us something from the dining hall. Real food, not a fucking salad."

Noticing Dave is shivering in his t-shirt and gym shorts, he rolls his eyes and yanks off his own jacket, wrapping it around Dave. "Put this on, too, it's fucking freezing out here and you're _still sick_ , you stupid dumb idiot! Now let's go."

He grabs Dave's sweaty hand and starts marching back toward the dorms.

\---

To be fair, Dave doesn’t know much about nutrition. That’s more D’s area of expertise, and Dave doesn’t want to be laughed out of the room by asking about it. Food was kind of a ‘make it yourself’ deal at home, and Dave never learned much beyond mac and cheese and ramen. Otherwise it was just whatever processed food he could get his hands on. He’s pretty sure those aren’t healthy.

Protein shakes and salads are healthy, though. He’s positive about that. Fruit, too. Anything else is a big question mark in his mind, though, so he’s not sure what Karkat means when he says _real food_. It’s barely been 48 hours; Dave isn’t ready to give up just yet, no matter how cold and achy he feels, so if Karkat shoves chips or something in his hands he’ll turn it down.

It’s not fair that Karkat looks good just… naturally. He doesn’t work out or anything but he’s cute as fuck, with his dark eyes and messy hair and round cheeks and button nose. He looks like he’s eaten three meals every day for his entire life.

“Oh, thanks,” Dave says, when Karkat hands him his jacket. It’s warm and baggy around Dave’s shoulders. He doesn’t put it on all the way, not wanting to get it soaked with his sweat, and lets Karkat lead him by the hand, pulse pounding.

He coughs into his hand as quietly as he can, but he keeps having to do it the closer they get to his dorm. When they enter his--blessedly empty--room, he gathers up his shower caddy and a change of clothes and tells Karkat to wait there.

Dave scrubs down quickly in the shower stall and, when he can’t hear anyone around, coughs into his fist harshly before reaching into the back of his throat.

His pathetic breakfast comes up easily, and soon after that he coughs up three more bright red petals. He uses his toes to smush them down the drain.

\---

Dave keeps coughing softly as they walk, and Karkat's brow furrows with concern. Dave really shouldn't have come out here in the cold while he's still sick, to go to the gym of all things. He's acting so weird right now, Karkat isn't sure what to think.

Dave tells him to wait there, but as soon as he's gone to shower, Karkat hurries back outside and heads to the dining hall, a couple minutes' walk away. He waits impatiently in line and fills two takeout boxes with steamed veggies and penne pasta heaped with meatballs. He shoves them onto a tray and pays at the counter, grabbing a couple forks on his way out.

He gets back to the Striders' room, which is unlocked as usual, and kicks the door in, marching through the living room. He knocks on Dave's door in case he's in there changing or something.

"Hey, Dave, are you in there? I brought food," he says.

\---

When Dave gets out of the shower he’s feeling much warmer but a lot more exhausted. His stomach is cramping and his throat burns and he just wants to curl up and sleep for a few hundred years.

He glances at his towel-clad form in the mirror and frowns, poking at the outline of ribs, clearly visible without having to suck in. He sighs, turning his back on his reflection, and changes quickly.

Karkat isn’t in the room when Dave gets back. He’s kind of hurt, actually, that he didn’t stick around after kicking up such a fuss. Maybe he is still mad. Dave probably deserves it. He checks his phone but doesn’t have any messages from Karkat and, after thinking it over, decides not to text him first.

He curls up miserably on his bed, taking his shades off and setting them on his side table, prepared to ignore the world for awhile. Someone enters the room outside his door and he figures it’s one of his brothers until he hears a knock followed by Karkat’s voice.

Dave shoves his shades back on his face and gets up, opening the door.

“You’re back,” he says, surprised.

\---

"Yeah, I told you I was gonna go get us food, dumbass," Karkat says, frowning. He pushes past Dave into the room and sets down the tray of food on Dave's desk, pushing aside several empty bottles of apple juice and a bong (D's).

Dave sits back on his bed and Karkat hands him one of the takeout boxes and a fork.

"Okay, first you're gonna eat this, and then we're looking up some basic nutrition facts so you don't keep fucking starving yourself," he says.

Sitting on the bed next to Dave, he starts in on his own food, but Dave doesn't move to open the container in his lap. Karkat sighs and puts his meal aside.

"Seriously, Dave, what's the matter? You're acting really weird, it's starting to freak me out. Are you okay? You know you can talk to me if there's something wrong, right?"

\---

Dave picks at the container. He’s incredibly hungry but now that food is offered to him he doesn’t have much of an appetite. He glances at Karkat’s food and sees there are vegetables, but also pasta and meatballs. Are those healthy? Dave has no idea.

“I’m fine, dude,” Dave insists. “I’m just tired I guess. Sorry for worrying you.”

He opens the container and takes a bite of mushy veggies. He tries not to make a face, because Karkat was nice enough to get this for him.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” he says. “You don’t have to, you know. I’m fine.”

Dave is not fine. He’s gay, apparently, after clinging so long to being straight to spite Rose and try to differentiate himself from his brothers. Worse than his identity being thrown into question, the guy he’s in love with sees everyone but him as a romantic prospect, and he’s already failing in his attempt to change that.

People can recover from Hanahaki, if they fall out of love. Dave doesn’t think that’s possible for him, since he doesn’t know how he fell in love in the first place. The surgery is only for cases where the person’s life is threatened, and Dave doesn’t know if he could go through with it even if he _could_ get it, because it would mean having to stay away from Karkat to avoid a relapse.

\---

Dave does not seem fine. He's picking at his food with all the enthusiasm of a coma patient, and his voice is toneless and quiet. He hasn't made a single joke or quip since Karkat found him at the gym.

Maybe it's just his cold making him act weird. Either way, he seems determined not to talk about it, so Karkat lets it go for the moment.

"Of course I'm looking out for you," he says. "You've always done the same for me. What kind of a jackass would I be if I let my friend waste away to nothing because he was too stubborn to eat a proper meal, huh?"

They eat in silence for a while. Dave barely finishes a third of his food, but it's better than nothing, Karkat guesses. He knows he never has much of an appetite when he's sick either, and the dining hall food is barely palatable on the best of days. He takes Dave's leftovers into the common room where he knows there's a mini fridge.

Hal's out on the couch and Karkat nods distractedly at him, squatting down to open the fridge. It's almost completely full of beer, but he manages to squeeze the box into a tiny space.

"What's that?" Hal asks, his voice impossible to read as always.

"Dave's food, and don't any of you assholes dare eat it," Karkat snaps, surprising himself. He rubs his face and sighs. "Just... would you keep an eye on him, please? He's been acting really weird and not eating enough, and I'm kind of fucking worried."

Hal's eyebrows raise, but after a pause he nods.

"Okay, thanks," Karkat says, relieved.

He heads back to Dave's room, opening the door without much care, and winces as he sees Dave's lying down in bed. Dave's eyes blink open and Karkat hisses, "Sorry!"

He looks at Dave, who seems completely exhausted. He looks a lot like Karkat feels after a Hanahaki attack, honestly. Karkat's chest twinges with sympathy.

"Hey, uh, I'm gonna head out and let you get some rest, ok?" he says in his softest voice. He starts gathering up his things to leave.

\---

Dave’s being an ingrate, picking at the food Karkat got him, but Karkat just chills in silence with him because he’s awesome. He takes the leftovers from Dave and leaves the room and Dave just kind of… topples over, exhausted. His shades fall off his face and he doesn’t bother slipping them back on.

He hears Karkat talking to one of the twins. Dirk? Jealousy flares in him but dies quickly. He doesn’t have enough energy to be jealous right now. He hopes Karkat doesn’t have another flower attack. Dave would be useless to him in this state. Not like he helps much in the first place.

When the door opens noisily, Dave blinks his eyes open, squinting in the light. Karkat starts grabbing his shit and Dave’s hand reaches out to wrap around Karkat’s wrist of its own accord. Karkat stills, looking at him curiously. Dave lets go.

“Sorry,” he says awkwardly. “Could you stay?”

He winces at himself, then remembers he’s not wearing his shades. But scrambling to put them on suddenly would be even more awkward, so he forces his face blank and clears his throat.

“I mean you don’t have to,” he says. “I’m just a whiny douche when I’m sick. It’s chill, bro.”

Dave isn’t up to keeping him entertained, anyway. What’s Karkat supposed to do? Watch him sleep? What is this, Twilight?

Or maybe he’ll go and talk to the twins and hit it off this time. The only reason Dave stops himself from scowling is because he’s focusing so hard on not emoting at all.

\---

"Yeah, of course I can stay," Karkat says, surprised. He figured Dave would want him to fuck off and leave him in peace, especially after all that nagging Karkat gave him about food and shit. Sure, he thinks Dave needed to hear it, but that doesn't mean it wasn't still annoying as fuck.

Dave doesn't look annoyed, though. For a moment he looks sad and incredibly vulnerable, his pale red eyes wide and exposed, but then his face goes blank again.

Karkat hates when he does that, can't understand why. He _wants_ to see Dave's emotions, to understand him more fully, take better care of him. That's how it works when someone's your friend, right?

Dave looks like he's in an uncomfortable position but Karkat doesn't want to make him move, so he satisfies himself by covering Dave with a blanket. Dave's eyes are closing again already, and Karkat slips a book out of his backpack, then sits on the floor, resting his back against the bed as he begins to read.

\---

Karkat doesn’t laugh at him or get annoyed at Dave for being clingy. He says _of course_ he can stay, like Dave only had to ask, and that makes pressure build behind his eyes, but he blinks it away.

Karkat covers him up with a blanket, essentially tucking him in. Dave thinks D might have tucked him in a few times, when he was really young, but mostly they weren’t that kind of family. The action is a little too tender, and Dave gives a weak cough as Karkat settles on the ground, pulling a book out of his bag.

“Thanks, Karkat,” Dave mumbles quietly, letting his eyes close. It doesn’t take very long for him to slip off to sleep.


	3. Movie Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We went ahead and added the Eating Disorders tag to the whole fic since it's (unexpectedly) become a pretty big part of the story. Take care <3

Over the next week or so, Karkat tries his best to keep an eye on Dave, spending time with him as often as he can. Dave seems to be busy a lot, though, telling Karkat he can't hang out because of D’s swim meet, or Dirk and Hal’s robotics tournament. Karkat understands that family is important to Dave, and he wouldn't want it any other way, but he's a little worried that Dave’s brothers aren't taking good enough care of him.

He knows Dave’s technically an adult, but really, he’s not well equipped to take care of himself. He doesn't know how to cook or even what foods are healthy, for one thing, he once told Karkat that he’s only been to the dentist once in his life, for a broken tooth, and he can barely do laundry. Karkat insisted on teaching him how a couple months ago, after realizing with horror that Dave was washing his clothes with dish detergent!

Also the other Strider boys aren't much better, to be perfectly honest. D is stoned literally every time Karkat sees him, which admittedly isn't very often, since Dave tries his best to keep his brothers away from Karkat to avoid aggravating his symptoms. He seems to know a bit about health and fitness crap at least, but he seems to use his knowledge only for the benefit of maintaining his rippling pectorals.

Dirk seems to have his shit together at first glance, but Dave’s told Karkat he sometimes stays up all night coding and just fucking forgets to sleep or eat until he literally passes out from exhaustion. Sometimes Hal reminds him about that shit, but when they both get obsessive over a project together, their delicate, codependent system of “self care” completely falls apart.

Honestly, Karkat doesn't know why he’s still coughing up flowers for these idiots. Well, no, he knows exactly why. It’s because they're the most attractive set of idiots he's ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on.

His Hanahaki has been milder this week, though, which he notices after several days in a row of having only two attacks. He knows it’ll come back with a vengeance at some point, but he gratefully enjoys the good days and uses his extra time and energy to get ahead on classwork.

His grades have been slipping a bit this semester, and it definitely has a lot to do with hanging out with Dave so much. It’s not that they don't try to do their homework together, but it turns out that putting the two of them in proximity to one another is a deadly combination for maximum distraction. Inevitably one of them will say something that sets the other off on a rant or ramble, which turns into a discussion full of shit talking and laughter, and before they know it, three hours have passed and they haven't gotten a single thing done.

Karkat wouldn’t give it up for a perfect 4.0, though. But he also doesn't want his GPA to drop so far that his parents start to worry, so he uses the days when Dave’s busy to study like a madman.

Today, however, Dave is free to hang out, which is good because Karkat’s been missing the shit out of him. They've planned to meet up at the library, which is between their class buildings, and walk back to the dorm together to watch some movie or other. Karkat’s standing around in the library lobby, messing around on his phone while he waits for Dave. He looks up and sees Dave approaching, then tucks his phone away and waving with a smile.

\---

Dave is busy a lot the next week. Things happen all at once, and it’s a blessing and curse, really, in that it keeps him away from Karkat. He misses him a pathetic amount, but it keeps his lungs relatively clear and gives him the chance to keep working out. He tries to eat more, and actually puts other shit in his salads besides just lettuce, but he still feels weak and shaky and cold a lot.

D shakes him awake one morning, a frown slashed across his face as Dave blinks blearily up at him.

“‘Sup, man?” he asks hoarsely.

“You’ve been coughing, kid,” D says. “All night. You ain’t usually sick for so long. You okay?”

“‘M fine, dude,” Dave says. “Sorry for keeping you up.”

D’s frown deepens, but he lets Dave go back to sleep.

D isn’t the only one concerned about him, apparently. The twins start badgering him to eat more, which is rich coming from them. Dave doesn’t know what their deal is all of a sudden, but he notices them watching him more closely than usual and it’s kind of creeping him out. They try to get Dave to go to the ice cream shop with them and Dave reluctantly refuses, which only makes them more annoyingly determined to shove sugar down his throat.

It’s… a lot, honestly. They don’t _get it_. They’re short but they have actual meat on their bones, and they’re strong and smart. They don’t even have to work for Karkat’s attention, because his dark eyes flit to them appreciatively whenever they’re in the room.

Dealing with his own jealousy over his brothers on a regular day is a lot to handle, but with unrequited love thrown into the mix it’s exhausting. Dave feels temperamental and on edge in a way he hates being, a way that’s entirely unlike himself.

Which is why he’s relieved as shit to get to have Karkat all to himself for a few hours. No swim meets, no robotics, no overbearing brothers or strangers on the street. Just him and Karkat. He strolls up to the library and finds his friend busy with his phone, but it’s tucked away the second Karkat notices him. Karkat waves like a dork, giving him an endearing smile, and Dave feels blood rush to his face.

“Hey,” he greets. “Ready to go?”

Dave is bundled up like it’s winter and he’s still fighting off a shiver. He’s just been so _cold_ recently. Not as bad as those first two days, before Karkat cornered him and made him eat, but he’s been layering up recently, tanks and shirts and sweaters under a jacket to try to keep warm.

Dave regales Karkat with the story of his English professor dropping the fucking ball in their latest class, feeling a rush of pride when Karkat laughs. Karkat’s been having a pretty good week, so far, and he’s in a great mood. Dave likes seeing him like this, energetic and happy. It’s a good look on him.

\---

Dave's face is pink, probably from speed walking here like a dork, and he's all cute and bundled up in his sweater and jacket. Cute in a friend way. Obviously.

As they walk, Dave chatters away, seeming like his normal healthy self, and Karkat's worries begin to clear up. Dave's still looking too skinny, though that's nothing really new, but he's energetic enough to joke around like this, so he's probably okay, right?

Karkat shares a few of his own stories from the day as well, and Dave listens and interjects with his own comments and jokes. Karkat notes with a touch of pride that he and Dave seem to just _get_ each other, their conversations flow easily and naturally, never feeling awkward or uncomfortable. Karkat's never had that with anyone else before and he thinks once again how grateful he is that Dave walked into his life this year. Or rather, rudely barged his way into Karkat's personal bubble, he thinks with a smirk. It's so strange to think how only a couple months ago he didn't even know Dave existed, and now Dave's his best fucking friend in the world.

It's not very cold out--Karkat's only wearing a light sweater, himself--but he notices Dave's teeth chattering ever so slightly as he talks. Karkat's eyes narrow.

He interrupts Dave's rambling. "Are you cold? You look like you're shivering, man, are you sure you're not still sick? Should you be at home resting?"

He pulls Dave off to the side of the path and presses his palm to Dave's forehead with a frown. "You don't feel feverish, but your face is flushed. What does that mean? Is that a fever or a cold? Hang on, let me google it." He digs around in his pocket for his phone.

\---

Dave’s face gets hot when Karkat presses his soft hand to his face, taking him by surprise. He stumbles over his words as Karkat pulls his phone out of his pocket, then collects himself enough to grab Karkat by the wrist and push his phone down.

“Dude, I’m fine,” he insists, clearing his throat as best he can without being suspicious. “I just get cold easily. I’ll be fine once we’re inside, c’mon.”

It’s not exactly a lie. Dave doesn’t have the extra padding to keep him warm in the winter; the cold blows right through him. It’s not usually this bad, though, and he’s taken to bundling up in a blanket when he’s chilling in his dorm room. He’s also been aching in a way he isn’t used to, and he’s not sure if that’s a side effect of the Hanahaki or not.

Karkat’s wrist is warm under Dave’s fingers, sending tingles up his hand and arm. He lets go like he’s been burned, starting to walk quickly once more so Karkat doesn’t notice his pink cheeks. There’s pressure building in his lungs and he has a feeling he’ll have to sneak off to the bathroom halfway through this hangout to puke up some petals. But it’s fine, that’s fine. Dave’s only been trying to improve himself for like two or three weeks now; of course Karkat isn’t going to find him attractive yet.

He keeps up a stream of chatter all the way to Karkat’s dorm and hopes his friend isn’t able to pick up on how nervous it sounds. When they enter the room Dave beelines to Karkat’s bed, careful of the various medical wires lying around, and flops facedown, spreading his arms out as though trying to hug the mattress.

“Dude why is your bed so much comfier than mine?” he demands, rubbing his face into the blanket. “Shit’s so unfair.”

\---

Karkat keeps glancing at Dave out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the walk, watching for any signs of sickness. However, aside from his voice sounding a little husky--which would make sense, given how he was sick recently--Dave seems perfectly normal, blabbering away about one thing or another the whole way back. When they get to Karkat's room, Dave falls onto his bed, rubbing his face on Karkat's blanket like a weirdo and making Karkat smile.

"We both have the same school-owned mattresses, dumbass, I just put a foam pad on mine to help me sleep better. You could get one too, they're like 20 bucks. And stop rubbing your snotty nose all over my blankets, I just washed those!" He shoves Dave's shoulder, trying to sound annoyed instead of amused.

There's not much space on the bed, since Dave's very thoughtfully taking up the whole area with his lanky body, so Karkat kicks off his shoes and climbs up and around his friend. He sits back against the wall and flops his heavy legs onto Dave's back, satisfied at the grunt of discomfort it produces.

"Ah, what a comfortable foot rest," he says airily. "It sure is nice to have a place to put up my weary, stinky feet at the end of a long day. I do wish my friend Dave were here too, so that he could enjoy this fine foot resting experience as well."

\---

Dave groans.

“Get your disgusting feet off of me, Vantas,” he demands. He squirms until he’s able to roll over onto his back, but all this accomplishes is that Karkat’s legs are now resting on his stomach. “Footrest privileges are clearly a third date kind of thing.”

He sits up, fully intending to grab Karkat’s legs and throw them off of him, but he’s hit with a wave of dizziness and has to blink dark spots out of his vision for a few moments. This has been happening with increasing frequency lately. When it passes he pushes Karkat’s feet off and moves up to sit next to him.

“A’ight, nerd,” he says. “What affront to real life relationships are you gonna make me watch today?”

Watching movies with Karkat has quickly become one of his favorite things in the world, if only because he gets to subtly watch Karkat’s expressions from the corner of his eye. It’s more interesting than most of the movies themselves.

\---

Karkat laughs as Dave shoves him off, then grabs his laptop and pulls up Netflix, finding the movie Friends With Benefits.

"Okay, full disclosure, this one's a little more raunchy than some of the movies we've seen--not that I'm sure you haven't seen worse in the privacy of your own room, pervert--but it's really good, it's about two friends who start having casual sex and then-- wait, I don't want to spoil the whole thing, let's just watch it. Just don't lose your shit over the amount of topless Mila Kunis and pantsless Justin Timberlake that you're about to see," he says.

He hits play on the movie and scoots closer to Dave, shifting the computer so it's resting on both their legs for easy viewing access. Karkat's thigh presses against Dave's and a warm tingle runs up his leg. He frowns, unsure of himself for a moment, but then the movie starts and he relaxes again, giving his full attention to enjoying the story and fielding all the questions and complaints Dave will undoubtedly have.

\---

Oh shit, Dave did not come mentally prepared for watching a fucking _raunchy_ movie with Karkat next to him. Dave can feel Karkat’s warmth through his clothes and he wants to lean into him and absorb it like a sponge.

“Dude do you ever listen to a single word I say?” he babbles nervously. “Like seriously what part of having four brothers makes you think I get any privacy anywhere? And don’t act like you don’t watch porn. Of course you do; you’ve got this room all to yourself, what _else_ are you supposed to do in here? Homework? Yeah right.”

He isn’t helping his situation because now all he’s thinking about is Karkat laying in this bed watching porn and jacking off. He swallows and his throat feels tight. He thinks it might be anxiety until he coughs and oh shit, looks like flower time arrived sooner than he thought it would.

“Actually I gotta use the bathroom real quick,” he says, pushing the laptop all the way onto Karkat’s lap and scooting to the edge of the bed. “Be right back.”

He stands up and for a moment everything is fine. Then the room tilts to the side and he experiences the very peculiar sensation of his legs ceasing to work before everything goes dark.

\---

Karkat flushes at Dave's implications, which are so totally unfair, although Karkat guesses he's somewhat at fault here for introducing this subject entirely without any prompting... Why did he do that, again?

He's vaguely embarrassed, even though it's not like it's that weird to talk about this shit with your friends, right? Either way, he's glad for the brief distraction when Dave gets up. He pauses the movie and looks up just in time to see Dave sway on his feet and crumple to the floor in a pile of limbs.

_Shit!_

Karkat jumps out of bed, crouching on the floor next to Dave, who's lying on his back. Dave's breathing is shallow, though at least he _is_ breathing which means he's definitely alive, but fuck, what is Karkat supposed to do now? He should have paid better attention in high school health class; he's pretty sure they covered fainting and shit somewhere in between all the STD warnings. Did Dave hit his head when he fell? Does he have a concussion? Should Karkat try to wake him up?

Biting anxiously at his lip, he pulls out his phone, ready to dial 911. Before he can hit call, though, Dave's eyes blink open slowly. Karkat reaches out to touch him tentatively on the shoulder.

"Hey! Dave! Can you hear me?" he says. His voice sounds loud in his own ears.

\---

Dave comes back to himself all at once, opening his eyes and squinting at the sudden light. Where did his shades go? He looks around and sees them a ways away on the floor. He’s on the floor. Why is he on the floor?

“What happened?” he asks, reaching for his sunglasses and shoving them onto his face. He sits up and the edges of his vision go dark. He blinks it away.

“You okay dude?” Dave asks, seeing Karkat’s worried face. What happened? They were about to watch a movie and then Dave stood up and… fell? He got kind of woozy and fell. Ugh, that’s fucking embarrassing. He forces out a sheepish laugh, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “Did I freak you out, man? Sorry, I got dizzy for a sec. Lame as shit, fainting like a woman in the 1800s, huh?”

His cheeks are red and his head is starting to hurt and he still feels like there’s something stuck in his throat. No wonder Karkat doesn’t like him back; he’s a joke.

\---

"Why are you asking if I'm okay, you're the one who passed out!" Karkat explodes. He forces himself to take a few deep breaths because Dave looks extremely uncomfortable and Karkat does not want his shitty bedside demeanor to make things worse.

He grits his teeth. "What the fuck happened, Dave? You just got dizzy and fainted? That's not like... that's not _good_ , okay, are you sure you aren't still sick? Have you been eating enough? You're not still just eating salads and protein powder, are you? I told you, you have to eat real food!"

He holds the sides of Dave's face, examining his head for bumps or bruises, his mouth twisted. "Did you hit your head? Does it hurt anywhere?"

\---

Karkat’s dark eyes are wide and worried and Dave feels like a jackass of monumental proportions. He lets Karkat tilt his head this way and that without a fight and tries not to enjoy the warmth of his hands too much.

“I don’t know what happened, dude,” he shrugs. “I’ve been eating more, I promise. And I like, put other shit in my salads now.”

He feels around his skull but it doesn’t feel particularly sore anywhere.

“I don’t think I hit my head,” he says. “And I don’t have a fever so I’m not sick. Relax, Kitkat. I’m fine.”

Karkat doesn’t look convinced and Dave isn’t sure what he should do. He _has_ been eating more, even if he’s still hella hungry like all the time. It’s probably just his body throwing a shitfit that he hasn’t been giving it its daily dose of processed sugary garbage, right?

He reaches out to pat Karkat on the shoulder.

“I’m fine, see?” he says. He stands up, praying that he can hold it together, but the black spots dance across his vision again and he sways heavily. His hand grips Karkat’s bedside table to steady himself and he sits heavily on the edge of the mattress.

“Shit,” he says.

\---

"Oh yeah, clearly you're completely fine," Karkat scoffs. "I'm just a fucking chump over here overreacting because my best friend passed out on my floor. How moronic of me to even be concerned about your health, seeing as you're obviously in peak condition!!"

He drops the sarcasm and sits on the bed, watching closely for any sign that Dave's about to keel over again. "Look at you, man, you can't even walk two steps without getting dizzy. There's obviously something fucking wrong and you need to go to a doctor if you don't know what it is. And I hope you know you can still be sick even if you don't have a fever, you fucking imbecile!"

Unexpectedly, his throat hurts and his eyes begin to prickle. He swallows hard and looks away, digging his fingernails into his palms and willing himself not to cry. _Stupid sensitive emotional loser. No wonder nobody else can put up with you._

\---

“Aw, I’m your best friend?” Dave asks, trying to lighten the mood. It falls flat and he sighs. “I have a doctor’s appointment in a week. If this shit is still going on I’ll bring it up, but I probably just didn’t eat enough today or something.”

He’s honestly lucky that this happened in Karkat’s room and not like, while he was on a run. Oh, shit, does this mean he shouldn’t go for a run tonight? Nah, he’ll just make sure to down an extra big protein shake before he goes. And maybe eat something other than salad for dinner.

Dave looks at Karkat and sighs. Karkat’s got his fists clenched and his jaw tensed and he’s staring at the floor harshly in a way that Dave’s learned means he’s holding back tears. God, Dave really sucks, huh? He leans into Karkat, intending to nudge him playfully but once he’s there he just… stays.

“I’m okay,” he insists. “I’ll eat something and slam some water and be good as new. Sorry for scaring you, dude.”

\---

Dave leans against his shoulder and Karkat wraps an arm around him automatically. Dave is bony and angular and not exactly built for cuddling, but Karkat doesn't give a shit. Especially after that scare, it's a comfort to have Dave's solid form tucked under his arm.

"It's fine, just don't fucking do it again, okay?" He sighs. "I swear to god, Dave, at this rate you're gonna give me gray hair before I'm old enough to legally drink."

He squeezes his arm around Dave, then lets it fall down. He wonders if this is how his parents feel all the time with Karkat's own health problems: unable to stop worrying, even when there's nothing they can do to help.

"Did you still need to go to the bathroom? I can come with you and make sure you don't fall down again," he offers.

\---

Karkat’s arm around him is heavy and warm and perfect. Dave wants to stay tucked up under it forever. Karkat was fucking _made_ for cuddles, like a grumpy person-sized teddy bear with a space heater tucked inside. He’s the exact opposite of Dave, who feels like he’s made entirely of ninety degree angles. For the first time in days Dave doesn’t feel like he’s freezing to death.

Unfortunately Karkat doesn’t seem to agree with his ‘cuddle forever’ agenda, because he drops his arm pretty quick, leaving Dave to pout and reluctantly pull away.

“As nice as that is, I think I can handle pissing without accidentally killing myself,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Your confidence in me is inspiring, though, so thanks for that.”

He stands up slowly, keeping himself steady with a hand braced on the table. He’s hit with another wave of dizziness but it’s not as bad and passes quickly. He gives Karkat a pointed smile and says, “be right back.”

Dave leaves the room, stepping over tubes and wires, and carefully but quickly walks to the bathroom with a hand dragging against the wall. He coughs loudly and hopes the petals don’t feel like being coy today, because he doubts Karkat will just wait around for fifteen minutes before coming to see if he brained himself against a toilet or something.

He gets an odd look from a dude exiting the bathroom as he coughs into his hand. Dark spots drift over the world again and he grits his teeth.

It only wakes a few minutes, thankfully, before he has four little rose petals sitting in the palm of his hand. He glares at them, breathing deeply, and drops them into the toilet, flushing them away.

“Miss me?” he says as he walks back into Karkat’s room, forcing a smile onto his face. “Told you I’d be fine.”

\---

When Dave leaves the room, Karkat quickly wipes his eyes and blows his nose, pulling himself back together. He's grateful that Dave never makes fun of him for crying, but it's still fucking embarrassing and he'd just as soon pretend it never happened.

Then he opens his mini fridge and digs around for something edible to feed Dave. There's a half-eaten sandwich from several days ago, which he really should just toss out already, and several packets of frozen waffles. He guesses those could work, but it's not really the most nutritious meal.

...Fuck it. He's a little low on cash this month, but he can afford a pizza for the two of them. He grabs his phone and orders a pepperoni and mushroom pizza, grudgingly adding pineapple to Dave's half. It's not the healthiest choice, but he neither wants to leave the dorm without Dave nor make him walk all the way to the dining hall, so. Pizza it is. Not that Dave will complain, he's basically in love with any and all junk food.

Dave comes back before too long, dropping a snarky comment even though he still looks pale and unwell.

Karkat rolls his eyes. "Sure, because being able to go to the bathroom on your own is totally a mark of perfect health and wellness. Congrats, we now know you have the same level of competence as a potty trained toddler."

He scoots back over on the bed, making room for Dave. "I ordered a pizza, it should be here pretty soon."

\---

Dave keeps his face carefully neutral when Karkat reveals that he ordered pizza. Normally he’d be fucking stoked--pizza was a rare treat in the Strider household--but he was trying to be _healthy_.

He knows jack shit but he’s pretty sure pizza is the opposite of healthy. He never sees D eating pizza.

“Thanks, man,” he says, crawling onto the bed.

He promised Karkat he’d eat something, so he will. He was hoping they could run to the dining hall and Dave could grab something with vegetables or fruit, but this is fine. One slice won’t hurt, right? He could just run extra tonight. He should probably be doing that anyway, since he doesn’t seem to be putting on any muscle, for some reason.

Dave settles in, thigh pressed against Karkat, and wishes Karkat would put his arm around him again.

“So I was promised topless Mila Kunis?” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Are you trying to watch softcore porn with me, Kitkat?”

He should really try thinking before he speaks, sometime. That would be a good idea to try out.

\---

"Don't fucking call me that," Karkat growls, bumping Dave with his shoulder. "Just because I ignored you the first time you did it, that doesn't mean I was giving you a free pass to keep calling me your dumbass nickname based on a shitty candy bar!"

The nickname is actually kind of fucking adorable, but Karkat can't just say so; that would be too fucking simple, wouldn't it? Sometimes he finds himself truly exhausting.

"And it's not softcore porn, dipshit," he says, his face getting warm. "It's just a regular romantic comedy, but with a little less fade-to-black and a little more time-in-the-sack."

He pulls the computer back in their laps and starts the movie. It's one of his current favorites, but today it's hard to focus on because Karkat is hyper aware of Dave's body next to him. His eyes keep sliding back to Dave's face, again and again.

It makes sense for him to be focused on Dave, right? His friend did just pass out a short while ago. So why does Karkat feel so weird and self conscious about it? _It's okay to care about your friends, asshole_ , he tells himself, frustrated with the way his mind won't stop spinning.

\---

Dave doesn’t take the bait to turn this into a hormone-fueled ramble about sex, though it takes a truly insane amount of effort. Instead he turns his head and gives Karkat a wide-eyed, hurt look. The effect is probably lost behind his shades, so he holds a hand to his heart to really get the point across.

“ _Kitkat_ ,” he says, dejected. “Karkie, Karkles, Karbar, Kittles. My dude, my bro. You don’t like your nicknames?”

He drops the act, leaning a bit heavier onto his friend and says, “Too bad. They’re here to stay. It’s the cost of my friendship. I get to call you whatever I want.”

When the movie starts, Karkat keeps looking at him. Dave keeps his eyes on the screen but he can feel the weight of Karkat’s gaze, and every glance makes him feel guiltier. He must have really fucking scared him, huh? The concern is oddly sweet; Dave isn’t used to people fussing over him, though Karkat is definitely a fusser.

“Dude are you even watching this?” Dave asks lightly, nudging Karkat with his arm. “How am I supposed to annoy you if you aren’t invested when I start shit talking?”

\---

Each of Dave's nicknames for him is more ridiculous than the last, and yet they all make something squirm pleasantly in his stomach. Karkat doesn't know how the fuck to respond to that, so he's ~~a little disappointed~~ relieved when Dave cuts it out and starts paying attention to the movie instead.

Before too long, though, Dave calls him out on being distracted, and Karkat frowns defensively.

"I am watching," he says. "I'm just also trying to make sure you don't fucking pass out on the floor again. Next time you might actually hit your head and get a concussion or something, and I don't want to have to take your dumb ass to the hospital."

Suddenly he gets an idea. Maybe it's a little weird, or gay, but Dave didn't seem to mind before. Resolving not to think about it too hard, Karkat lifts his arm up and wraps it around Dave's shoulder, pulling him in closer.

"There," he grumbles. "Now I can make sure you stay upright and still watch the movie? Happy now??"

\---

Dave goes tense under Karkat’s arm for a quick second, then immediately relaxes, scooting closer and trying to curl up into Karkat’s heat as much as possible without making it weird. This is definitely not helping his Hanahaki but it’s fine, he’s fine. He just coughed up some petals so he has time, and he’s going to enjoy this while he can.

“Ecstatic, dude,” Dave says, deadpan. “I’m always down for some bro cuddles.”

It’s harder to pay attention to the movie now, however, and Dave doesn’t make as many comments as he usually would while he stares at the story unfolding on the screen. He’s too preoccupied with memorizing how warm and soft Karkat is, how grounding his arm feels around Dave’s shoulders, how good he smells.

As much as he wants to hope, this doesn’t mean Karkat is into him. He’s just freaked out and worried and looking out for Dave and Dave’s a bad person for taking advantage of this, but he’s only a good enough person to feel guilty about it and not enough to stop it.

Dave’s eyes start to drift shut behind his shades when Karkat’s phone goes off and he has to pause the movie to go get the pizza. He feels immediately bereft as Karkat moves away.

“This movie might be cursed,” Dave calls out as Karkat leaves. He sighs, flopping onto his side and groaning. What the fuck is he doing?

\---

Dave's not quite as talkative as Karkat expects, but he seems comfortable, curled up against Karkat like a contented cat. Karkat's hand twitches to pet Dave's hair like he actually _is_ a cat, but thankfully he stops himself because what the fuck, that's definitely too weird. Dave certainly cuts him a lot of slack for being socially awkward as shit, but he thinks hair petting apropos of fucking nothing just _might_ be crossing a line of some sort.

His phone buzzes and he untangles himself from Dave, heading downstairs to grab the pizza. He shoves some cash toward the delivery guy for a tip and hurries back upstairs, a little worried that Dave might have somehow fatally injured himself in the past several minutes.

Thankfully, Dave appears to be conscious and all in one piece. Karkat puts two big slices of pineapple-covered pizza on a paper plate and hands it to Dave with a pointed glare, then grabs himself a couple slices and rejoins Dave on the bed. He doesn't usually eat in his bed because he hates getting crumbs everywhere, but he doesn't want to make Dave get up, so. Whatever, it's fine, he can just wash his sheets later.

\---

Karkat shoves a plate at him with a nasty glare and Dave rolls his eyes. God this pizza looks fucking delicious, and the smell is making his mouth water. Why must something so good be so bad?

He takes a bite and the flavor bursts across his tongue. He moans, eagerly taking another one. Everything he’s been eating recently has been so damn bland, and he can feel the heat of the pizza as it goes down, warming him up from the inside out. He’s so fucking hungry.

Dave finishes his piece in no time and looks longingly at the other one on his plate. He’s still hungry but he said only one piece. He bites his lip and decides on picking the pineapple chunks off of it as a compromise. Fruit is healthy. This is fine.

“You good, dude?” he asks, seeing Karkat staring at him. He waves his plate around. “Look, I’m eating, see?”

\---

Is Dave really only going to eat one slice and just pick at his fucking pineapple like a goddamn heathen? Karkat had been planning to make him eat one more slice after this, but it looks like that might not be happening.

His eyebrows knit together with concern and annoyance. "I thought you said you were eating more lately. One slice of pizza isn't enough for dinner, especially since, I don't know if you remember, but less than an hour ago you _fainted_ from not eating enough!"

He sighs. He doesn't want to keep fighting with Dave over this, he feels like a complete jackass for forcing food on his friend, but he's fucking worried. Dave does not seem okay. Karkat's stomach sinks as he wonders if Dave's developing an actual eating disorder, though he has no fucking idea why, the guy's only ever complained about being _too_ skinny. But why else would Dave suddenly be so obsessed with "healthy" food?

\---

Dave frowns. He feels like shit, making Karkat fret like this. This is why he wanted to keep all this shit to himself and slowly get hot without making a big deal out of it. It’s a lot more work than he initially thought, and Karkat is worrying himself sick over it, even though Dave is _fine_. He fainted, so what? People faint all the time.

“I _am_ eating more,” he insists. He sighs, lifting up the second piece and taking a bite. He’ll just… make it a really long run. “I eat like, eggs and shit now with the protein drinks and I put meat and cheese in my salads and I munch on apples, too.”

He shrugs. It’s not like he can follow D around all day and see what _he_ eats, but Dave thinks he’s doing alright. D was even surprisingly supportive when he found out and bought Dave his own protein powder and showed him how to work some of the machines at the gym. So. That was nice.

There’s still no progress being made with the whole muscle-building situation, though, and that’s incredibly frustrating. Maybe he’s just doomed to be a scrawny, pale freak his whole life. He was fine with that before, for the most part, but scrawny pale freaks aren’t Karkat’s type, apparently.

\---

Karkat's stomach churns anxiously, but he doesn't know what else he can say or do. Dave seems determined to stick with his stupid diet, although at least it doesn't sound quite as extreme as before. He sighs, deciding to let it go for now, since Dave's eating the pizza at least. He'll count that as a win.

"Fine, but for the record I _still_ don't think it's enough food if it's got you passing out on me," he says. "Just... you should talk to your doctor about it, okay? I'm not a nutritionist or anything so I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about, but I know you gotta be careful about diets and stuff so you don't fuck your body up."

He finishes up his second slice of pizza and sets his plate aside, sucking the grease off his fingers and wiping them off with a tissue. He tosses Dave the tissue box as well--crumbs are one thing, but pizza grease on his sheets he will _not_ abide.

Karkat unpauses the movie _again_ (they're still only like ten minutes into this fucking thing, maybe Dave’s right and this movie _is_ cursed) and settles back against the wall, hoping Dave will cuddle up with him again when he's done eating. Cuddle in a platonic way, of course. Even if he wanted something more--which he _doesn't_ \--Dave's definitely not interested, because he doesn’t like guys. And even if he _did_ like guys, there’s no reason he would like Karkat when literally nobody else in the fucking world does. Not that Karkat's even thinking about it, because it doesn't fucking matter, because he doesn't want that in the first place! _Ugh._

He can just enjoy cuddling with his friend without it being a whole _thing_ , can't he? He absolutely, positively _refuses_ to get a crush on Dave. He's made it this far without his gross feelings making a mess of everything, and he's not about to let himself slip up and ruin the best thing in his life right now.

\---

Karkat fucking _sucks on his fingers_ and Dave can only sit there and watch, swallowing thickly and desperately hoping he doesn’t pop a boner. There’s no way Karkat knows what he’s doing to Dave but _holy shit_. He forces himself to look away, staring hard at his food.

Dave finishes his second slice of pizza and sets his plate aside, then cleans his fingers off with a tissue since Karkat’s so anal about his sheets being clean, the weirdo. When he looks back, Karkat is set up all relaxed against the wall, the laptop playing the movie again, and Dave hesitates. Is he still open to the cuddle thing? Or was that like, a one time only deal and Karkat doesn’t feel the need to keep him upright anymore now that he’s eaten?

“Oh no,” Dave says. Karkat’s eyes snap to him and Dave scooches up, sitting next to him and leaning against him dramatically. “I think I’m feeling woozy. Whatever shall I do?”

Karkat can push him away and tell him to fuck off, if he wants, and Dave will knock it off. But he really hopes Karkat puts his arm around him again.

\---

Karkat snorts a laugh, and lets his arm curl protectively around Dave. "Yeah, yeah, very subtle. Man, if I didn't know better, I might think you only keep me around so you can use my squishy body as a pillow."

Not that Karkat's complaining about it, either. Having Dave pressed up against him like this seems to soothe a gnawing anxiety in Karkat's stomach; it feels good and _right_ , in a way that he doesn't really know how to describe.

Whatever, he knows he's kind of a touch starved freak from spending so many years without any friends or romantic partners to be physically affectionate with. He remembers his parents hugging and cuddling him a lot as a kid, but that was a long time ago now.

On screen, Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake are making eyes at each other, and Karkat smirks, knowing what comes next.

"Get ready, they're about to start making out soon," he says. "Do I need to cover your innocent, virgin eyes?"

\---

Dave’s ploy works, and he gleefully cuddles in against Karkat.

“What can I say, dude? You make a good pillow,” he says. He’s tempted to lean his head against Karkat’s shoulder but that feels like he’d be pushing it. He doesn’t want Karkat to get uncomfortable and push him off. So he just basks in the feeling of Karkat’s arm around him and how mind-bogglingly comfortable Dave feels against his side.

“Shit dude, they’re gonna bone already?” Dave asks. “This is not the usual romcom you make me sit through. And I think my eyes are plenty de-virginized at this point.”

Indeed, on screen the characters start macking on each other with abandon, and Dave raises his eyebrows. The movie actually seems pretty interesting but it’s hard to pay attention, when he keeps glancing at Karkat’s face, watching his expression. And Dave is starting to feel pretty tired with a (somewhat) full belly. His eyes start to droop but he blinks them back open.

He’s not about to fall asleep; he’s been looking forward to this all week, and now he gets fucking _cuddles_. He refuses to sleep through them. Even if Karkat feels warm and safe beside him.

\---

Karkat's prepared for Dave to spew a bunch of idiotic commentary about how Karkat's a pervert, blah blah, the usual, but he doesn't say anything even when Mila Kunis starts taking her shirt off.

He lets himself focus on the story (and Justin Timberlake's delicious abs), quietly thrilling in the fact that he's watching a movie right now with his best friend. It's not something most people would think to be grateful for, he knows, but until recently he thought he'd never be able to have this kind of experience. Sometimes he thinks he's gotten used to it--to the concept of having a friend--and then it just hits him all over again how fucking lucky he is right now. How much better his life has been since Dave wandered into it.

Dave yawns twice in a row, and Karkat rubs his hand up and down Dave's arm. "You can take a nap if you need to, dude," he offers. "I don't mind, and you seem like you kinda need it."

\---

Karkat runs his hand over Dave’s arm and Dave’s eyes flutter closed as he enjoys the sensation. He doesn’t really do this with anyone. His family isn’t very physically affectionate and he and John will wrestle sometimes but it’s nothing like this. His skin feels like every nerve is on alert and oversensitive, but inside he feels _settled_ in a way he hasn’t been before. He feels content.

“No way,” he murmurs, when Karkat tells him to take a nap. He yawns again, and this doesn’t help his cause. “I’m comfy. Not moving.”

He eyes Justin Timberlake on screen and considers looking up whatever his diet and exercise plan is. Dude has hella abs.

\---

Dave's voice is a sleepy mumble that Karkat can barely hear. It makes him feel all warm inside to see Dave like this, vulnerable and soft, with none of his usual cool-guy fronting.

"You don't have to move, dipshit. Just try not to drool on me too much," he says. "I'll wake you up when the movie ends."

He hesitates a moment before continuing to stroke his hand over Dave's arm, hoping it's soothing and not just weird.

On screen, Justin shimmies down under the sheets and starts eating out Mila, who is so far unimpressed by his efforts. Karkat idly wonders if he'd be any good at that type of thing, then immediately regrets setting his mind down that path. Nope, he's not getting horny right now, this is so not happening.

At least Dave's half asleep and barely paying attention, he thinks. Thank god for small mercies.

\---

Karkat says Dave can nap against him and that sends a jolt of affection through him and his stomach fluttering. Karkat keeps rubbing his arm and it’s soothing as shit, and Dave finally gives in and lets his head fall against Karkat’s shoulder, breathing his scent in deep and sighing tiredly.

His eyes slip closed as some sexy shit goes down on screen. Or at least it sounds like it. Whatever, the movie is the absolute last thing on his mind right now.

“Such a good pillow, dude,” Dave mumbles, barely able to hear his voice himself, before he admits defeat and slips into sleep.

\---

Karkat's heart thumps as Dave drops his head down, nestling into Karkat's shoulder. Who knew cuddling was so fucking nice? Karkat wonders what it would feel like to do this with someone he had actual feelings for, but honestly, it's hard to imagine it being any better than this.

Dave is so quiet like this, his long legs folded up on the bed, arms resting loosely in his lap as he breathes lightly. Karkat takes a moment to really look at him, taking in the light fluttering of his eyelashes behind his shades, pale-pink lips against unnaturally white skin. It strikes Karkat, not for the first time, that his friend is actually sort of beautiful.

He hopes Dave knows that he's good looking, and that he's not trying to do all this health food and exercise shit out of a misguided attempt at changing his appearance. Karkat's been down that road before, tried to lose weight and get abs and shit, hoping it would make him more attractive to his crushes, but all it did was exacerbate his lung problems until he cut it the fuck out. He guesses he's just not meant to be hot.

Which kind of sucks, but honestly? He's been caring about that kind of thing less and less ever since he started hanging out with Dave. For the first time in his life, it actually feels pretty good to be Karkat Vantas.

\---

Dave is dreaming. He’s vaguely aware of this, but in a way that’s distant and doesn’t actually matter. He’s dreaming that he and Karkat are laying in a bed that’s too small, so they have to scoot up right next to each other, and Dave says something funny and Karkat laughs, his adorable face splitting into a grin, and Dave reaches out to pinch one of his full, chubby cheeks and laughs as well, but then he isn’t laughing, he’s coughing, and his chest is aching, and--

And he opens his eyes, hunching over to cough loudly into his hand, a rattling wheeze coming from his lungs.

“Fuck,” he says roughly, when the coughing fit has passed. He looks over to see Karkat staring at him with wide eyes and tries to give him a smile. “Sorry about that, dude. Something in my throat, I guess.”

He reaches for his phone to check the time and groans. “Dude it’s so late. Why didn’t you wake me up? Were you just sitting there letting me snooze all over you for two hours?”

\---

The movie has maybe ten minutes left in it, when Dave jerks up and starts coughing, a horrible, painful hacking sound.

Karkat watches him carefully, hand hovering nearby, not sure if he should rub Dave's back the way he always does for Karkat. Dave appears to recover before Karkat can decide what to do, though, and he puts his hand back down awkwardly.

He frowns indignantly as Dave complains about Karkat letting him sleep.

"I was going to wake you up when the movie ended, and it hasn't ended yet, numbskull," he argues. "I wasn't about to wake you up when you looked so tired, anyway. I hope you're going straight to bed after this, you still look like a stiff breeze could bowl your ass over like a semi truck. And hold on just one taint licking minute, don't you try and fucking distract me from that absolutely _deathly_ sounding cough you've got. Do you need some water or anything? Here--" He grabs a cough drop from his bedside table, handing it to Dave somewhat forcefully.

\---

Dave blinks at the cough drop Karkat makes him take, a little smile flickering on his face.

“Lookin’ out for me, Karkles?” Dave says, unwrapping the cough drop and popping it in his mouth. Fuck yeah apple flavor. “Thanks, dude.”

He scoots back up under Karkat’s arm for the rest of the movie, badgering Karkat with questions about the plot until he lets out a frustrated shout and Dave laughs, delighted. Karkat doesn’t push him away even through his pestering and it makes something warm spread in his chest.

When the movie is over Dave regretfully pulls away. He wants to stay longer but he’s fucking exhausted and if he does he’ll just steal Karkat’s bed for the night and yeah, that’s not happening. So Dave gathers his shit, bids Karkat goodbye, and heads back to his own dorm where he flops onto his bed and decides to take another quick nap before waking up to go for that run.


	4. Study Session

Another week passes. Karkat goes a practically record-breaking two days without coughing up any flowers and his lungs are feeling better than they have in months, but on the third day he accidentally runs into Hal coming back from the showers with just a skimpy towel draped around his waist, and ends up hunched over the toilet only an hour later, cursing the stupid hot Striders and their inability to wear shirts.

He and Dave continue to hang out as often as they can, and text each other the rest of the time. Karkat keeps a sharp eye on Dave’s health, especially on his cough which hasn’t gone away yet. 

On Sunday, Karkat has his weekly phone call with his parents and catches them up on his life. They ask--yet again--when they can finally meet Dave, who they’ve heard so much about. It’s fucking embarrassing, but it’s also sweet, and Karkat tells them he’ll try to invite Dave over for a holiday or something. 

The conversation also makes Karkat realize he’s never met Dave’s parents, either. In fact, he’s not sure whether Dave _has_ parents. Dave always talks about his childhood in vague terms, and references being raised mostly by his brothers, which isn’t necessarily unusual, considering he’s the youngest of them all. Still, Karkat suspects there might be more of a story there. But if there is, it’s Dave’s story to tell, and Karkat’s not going to pry. 

Today is Dave’s doctor appointment, and he’s supposed to meet Karkat in the library afterward so they can study together. 

Karkat shows up early to claim a table, glaring at anyone who walks by as if daring them to take Dave’s seat. He’s anxious to hear the results of Dave’s appointment, and it’s hard to concentrate on his textbook, and after rereading the same paragraph several times without retaining a single word, he sighs, sets the book aside, and pulls out his laptop. 

His browser is open to Dave’s ridiculous website, Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, of which Karkat has, to his horror and Dave’s delight, become an avid reader. 

The content itself is physically repugnant and Karkat maintains that he would rather deep throat a syphilitic moose than read a single panel of the comic, but it seems to make Dave so fucking happy when Karkat texts him insults about his latest episodes, so he bitches and moans his way through each new update. Anyway Dave gets to force his horrible taste onto an unwilling participant and Karkat gets to complain endlessly about it; it’s a symbiotic relationship or some horseshit like that.

He rolls his eyes, opening a new tab with the spreadsheet he’s been working on, in which he’s cataloguing every romantic movie he’s ever seen and categorizing the primary canon relationships in each film. Currently he’s using three different categories: 1) hate-love, which is romance that’s based in rivalry or conflict, 2) the classic red-hot romance, and 3) bromance. Karkat doesn’t think bromance is a real word, but Dave insisted he had to use it instead of “friendship love,” which “sounds like a something a baby boomer would say to pretend their granddaughter hasn’t been gay married to a woman for the past ten years.” 

Anyway. 

Karkat cracks his knuckles and gets to work on categorizing all the different pairings in _Love, Actually_ while he waits for Dave to show up.

\---

Dave never gets to go on his run. He sleeps through the rest of the evening and into the night, lost to the world, and dreams about Karkat. Karkat’s smile, his laugh, the scrunch of his eyebrows when he scowls and the curve of his nose and the way his fingers are shorter and thicker than Dave’s and how warm and soft he is.

He isn’t sure what wakes him up at first. The room is dark and he isn’t wearing his glasses. There’s a blurry figure standing over him and his throat burns. He fumbles for his glasses and slips them on, and D comes into focus. D isn’t wearing his shades and there’s an odd look on his face.

“What’s up?” Dave croaks, clearing his throat.

“You were coughing pretty bad,” D says. Dave recognizes his expression as _concern_. “You ain’t normally sick this long, lil’ man. You okay?”

Dave is going to tell him he’s fine, he just forgot to take cough syrup or whatever, and then roll over and go back to sleep because he’s still exhausted. He doesn’t get the chance, however, because another round of coughing wracks his body. And then the worst thing possible happens: he coughs up a petal in front of his brother.

He tries to snatch it up, hoping D can’t see it in the dim light, but D is quicker. His brother grabs it, holding it up and staring at it blankly, then looks back to Dave, who feels like a child under his gaze. 

Silence stretches between them, broken only when Dave starts coughing again. D sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“This about your new bestie?” he asks. “Have you told him?”

A hot wash of shame drips down Dave’s back and he scowls, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. 

“Who said it’s him?” he mutters, no fire behind his words despite the burning of his throat. “I’m straight, bro. There’s this girl in my class and--”

“Dave.”

He flinches at the sound of his actual name on D’s tongue, curling further into himself.

“He doesn’t know,” Dave whispers. “I have a doctor’s appointment soon.”

D nods, watching him for a little while longer until he gives up. He places a hand on Dave’s head for a moment, then pulls back and crawls back into bed. He’s snoring not too long after. Dave isn’t as lucky.

What D knows, the twins know, and the next day when Dave walks into the common room they both fall silent and stare at him until he cracks a joke and the tension breaks. Luckily neither of them tries to have a heart-to-heart with him. Dave is just subject to the weight of their stares every time he coughs or clears his throat.

Eventually his doctor appointment comes around. Dave takes the bus to a clinic he’s never been to before and anxiously waits in the waiting room after checking in until a nurse calls his name. She leads him down a long hallway into a room where she tells him to get on a scale. 

Shit. His stomach is full of worms as he stands on it, face dropping when he sees the number. The nurse frowns.

“You’ve lost weight,” she says unnecessarily, flipping a page on her clipboard. “Twelve pounds is a lot to lose in a little over a month, especially for someone borderline underweight in the first place. Have you been trying to lose weight?”

Dave steps off the scale, shifting his weight anxiously and feeling like a failure.

“No,” he says. “I’ve been trying to gain it, I guess. Build muscle. Eat better. Y’know.”

He shrugs awkwardly. The nurse makes another note, nodding, and leads him to a separate room where he sits in an uncomfortable chair.

“Talk to your regular clinic about seeing a nutritionist,” the nurse tells him. “Until you can be seen, go back to your usual diet. Being underweight comes with serious health concerns, and we don’t want that to make your Hanahaki worse.”

Dave nods miserably. He’s missed junk food and pizza and basically anything that isn’t eggs and salad and protein shakes, but _his plan_. What is he supposed to do now? Maybe if he just goes back to eating like normal and dedicates even more time to working out? He already spends like an hour a day at the gym fucking around with weights, on top of running in the morning and evenings. If he works out _more_ he’ll barely have time to spend with Karkat between classes.

The nurse asks him a bunch of questions. He answers as well as he can. Then she leaves and another woman, the doctor, comes in a few minutes later. She asks him how the medications have been working, how much and how often he’s coughing up flowers. She asks if he’s told the person he’s in love with yet, and if he plans to.

She listens to his lungs. She tells him what’s going to happen, how the flowers will eventually start blooming out of control no matter what meds he takes, if he doesn’t fall out of love or have his feelings reciprocated. She tells him about the surgery, and how it’s a last resort. She gives him pamphlets for support groups that he shoves in his bag and decides not to look at ever again.

When it’s over, Dave feels wrung out. He makes an appointment for two months from now at the front desk, then spends the extra cash to get an Uber back so he isn’t late for meeting Karkat in the library. 

All he really wants to do is sleep, and he isn’t in the mood for Karkat rubbing his face in the food thing. But the moment he sees Karkat sitting at a table, staring intently at his laptop, the world doesn’t seem quite as dreary anymore.

“Hey, dude,” Dave says, plopping into the seat across from Karkat. “What’s up?”

\---

Karkat's just getting done with _Love, Actually_ and is about to start on _Sleepless in Seattle_ when Dave shows up, right on time.

Karkat pushes his laptop aside and frowns at his friend. Dave looks thin and frail and even more tired than he's looked recently, which is saying a lot. 

"How was your appointment? Did they tell you anything useful?" he asks.

His foot taps anxiously under the table, eyes searching over Dave's face for--something, he's not sure what.

\---

Dave sighs. 

“What, no small talk? Just jumping right into the heavy shit?” he asks. Karkat gives him a deadpan look and Dave slouches. “I’m setting up an appointment with a nutritionist. They want me to go back to eating like shit until then I guess. Go ahead and say I told you so, dude, you’ve earned it.”

He sits back, raising his eyebrows and waiting. He really doesn’t want to hear Karkat tell him how fucking stupid he is, but hopefully he’ll get it over with quickly and they can move on to trying and failing to study whilst in each other’s presence.

\---

Dave looks so defensive and sad and Karkat feels horribly guilty. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed so hard about the food thing, but he's just been so worried. It's not his fucking business, though, is it? He just can't keep his nose out of other people's shit.

He crosses his arms, trying to keep his anger at himself contained instead of letting it explode like the biggest, most putrescent asshole in the world, and takes a deep breath.

"What the fuck, Dave?? You really think I of all people would want to rub someone's health problems in their face and say I told you so? I don't know what's gotten up your ass lately, but I've been really worried about you, okay? This isn't some kind of idiotic ego-driven pissing contest!"

He glares at the table. Christ, so much for not being an asshole.

\---

Dave wilts immediately, pulling on his neutral face like a shield. 

Fuck, he’s really a douchebag, isn’t he? Of course Karkat isn’t going to rub his face in it; he’s a good friend and he’s been _worried_ about Dave. This isn’t like his brothers lording shit over him whenever he makes a fool out of himself.

“Shit, dude,” Dave says. “I’m sorry. You’re right, that was a shitty thing to say and I should’ve known better.”

This is worse than if Karkat just said ‘I told you so’ in fifty creative ways. Dave feels small and ashamed.

“You don’t have to worry anymore, okay,” he says. “I’m going back to eating how I did before. Everything will be fine.”

Everything won’t be fine, because Dave is in the exact same boat as he was before. He makes up his mind to extend his time at the gym from one hour to two. Maybe more if he can manage it without getting too shaky.

\---

Dave's face goes carefully blank, and god dammit, Karkat knows that means he's made him feel even worse. Karkat is such a shitty, horrible friend, and Dave deserves so much fucking better. He resolves to be better, for Dave.

Karkat definitely doesn't have the same ironclad grip on his outward emotions that Dave does, but he manages to wrangle his face into a less angry expression until he just looks vaguely constipated.

"Don't worry about it," he grinds out. "You don't have anything to apologize for, I'm the one who should be sorry for being such a pain in the ass to deal with in literally every situation imaginable. I'm still gonna worry about you, though. At least until you convince me you're even halfway competent at taking care of yourself."

His mouth twists fondly and he wishes he was sitting closer so he could give Dave a bro punch or something to lighten the moment.

Instead, he pulls his textbook back toward him and flips it open, sighing as the words seem to blur together on the page.

"What are you working on today?" he asks, without looking up.

\---

Dave wants to argue, because he adores spending time with Karkat and he wouldn’t do that if it was unpleasant. Karkat doesn’t have to apologize for _shit_ , Dave’s the asshole who’s in love with him yet still going out of his way to make Karkat feel like garbage.

But Karkat’s already moving on, grabbing his textbook, and Dave lets the topic drop, though the guilt remains.

“Math,” he says, reaching into his bag to pull out his math textbook. “I fucking hate math, dude. I’m not the twins, I’m too stupid for this shit.”

He flips through his textbook to the right page and grimaces at all the confusing equations listed there. Once they started introducing the alphabet Dave was lost, but he somehow managed to stumble his way into trigonometry. He’s pretty sure there was a clerical error involved somehow.

\---

Karkat's face scrunches up and he rolls his eyes.

"You're not stupid, Dave. Your brothers are just freakishly good at math, and you shouldn't compare yourselves to them. That would be as dumb as you saying you don't know as much about romcoms as me and thinking it makes you stupid. They're just like, obsessed with that shit, but it doesn't mean their skills are more valuable than yours."

He can feel himself ramping up into full rant mode and tries to rein himself the fuck in.

"Anyway, you're way better at math than I am. Thank god English Lit majors don't need to take Trig or I would've had to drop out," he says. It's not even a joke, Karkat knows he's fucking terrible at math.

\---

A smile tugs at the corners of Dave’s lips. Karkat’s like his dedicated life coach, always trying to convince Dave that he’s just as good as his bros even though they both know it isn’t true. Dave appreciates the effort regardless.

So much so that he feels an ache in his chest and a tickle in his throat. He coughs slightly, hoping Karkat won’t catch it. Dave might need to cut this short, or at least head to the bathroom sometime soon to cough up some flowers. But he doesn’t want to stop hanging with Karkat just yet, so he tries to squash it down, clearing his throat.

“I dunno, dude,” he says. “I told you about Slappy, right? Being able to make a robot that slaps people sounds a lot more valuable than being able to estimate the height of a tree or whatever.”

\---

Dave coughs softly and Karkat holds back a barrage of concerned questions about his health; he's already pissed Dave off enough today with his nosy overprotective worrying.

"You and I both know Slappy is possibly the _least_ valuable contribution anyone has ever made to society," he says. "I literally can't think of a single non-idiotic reason to own a robot that slaps people in the face. Actually, it sounds like something Egbert would come up with."

They should probably change the subject away from people Karkat's had crushes on, before it triggers a coughing attack.

"Why are you taking Trig anyway? You don't even know if you're gonna need it yet, do you? Or did you decide on a major without telling me about it? You better not, I'd be very hurt, Dave." Karkat pouts dramatically.

\---

“How dare you insult Slappy’s good name,” Dave says, feigning offense, but he lets the subject drop.

“Nah, dude, when I finally fucking decide what to do with my life you’ll be the first to know,” he says. 

His brothers all entered college with their majors already decided. Dirk and Hal in robotics, D in business, though he’ll probably be heading to the Olympics or some shit. Dave has no idea what he wants to do. Maybe something with art, or paleontology, or music. There’s too many possibilities.

“When I was signing up for gen ed courses they had me take a placement test and dropped my sorry ass in Trig, for some reason. I’m surprised they didn’t boot me back to kindergarten.” He shrugs, pouting down at his textbook.

Karkat knows what he wants to do, too. Maybe Karkat would like him back if Dave had a life plan or at least a vague idea what he wants to do when he graduates?

\---

Karkat snorts. "I think you'd probably get some pretty odd looks if you enrolled in kindergarten."

It's kind of a cute visual, though, the idea of Dave hunched over at a tiny table with a bunch of kids, coloring a page or smushing a handful of red Play-Doh in his adult-sized hands. He bets Dave was a pretty adorable kid, too.

"Anyway, I wouldn't be in too much of a hurry to decide what to major in. Maybe if you put it off longer you won't end up in some bullshit liberal arts degree like mine and basically be guaranteed to never make any money for the rest of your life," he says.

Despite his (actually quite genuine) concerns about getting a job after college, Karkat can't imagine wanting to change his major. Literary analysis has been his passion ever since long before he knew there was a name for it.

He remembers reading the Harry Potter books in fourth grade and spending all recess inside, complaining to his teacher about the lack of satisfying romantic character development until she finally shooed him outside to play with the other kids. Except nobody wanted to play with Karkat the flower freak, so he tucked himself away in a corner to continue reading his book, wishing he was living someone else's life.

It sucked, there's no doubt about that, but he made it through that shitty time, and his life is actually kind of pretty fucking good now?? And it's almost entirely because of Dave. Karkat lets a small smile pass over his features, then banishes it away to focus on his textbook.

They study in silence for a good half hour or so, which is honestly a lot longer than they usually manage, before Karkat starts yawning. He's gonna need some more coffee to get through the rest of this study session.

"I'm gonna go to the cafe and grab a coffee, you want something?" he asks. "Coffee or AJ? Or some junky crap to satisfy your doctor? Whatever you want, it's my turn to buy."

\---

Dave is startled out of his math induced headache by Karkat’s voice and it’s a welcome fucking sound. He almost says his now customary ‘ _no thanks, I’m not hungry_ ’, but pauses when Karkat mentions his doctor. Right, he’s supposed to go back to eating normally.

“AJ sounds fucking fantastic, dude,” he grins. God he’s missed apple juice.

Karkat nods and heads out, Dave’s eyes following him as he leaves. Karkat is really fucking cute, actually, shorter than Dave and a bit chubby with hella ass. Realizing he’s staring, Dave snaps his eyes back to his book and clears his throat again.

Actually… maybe he should take the chance to get rid of these petals before Karkat comes back. But he can’t leave their stuff here unattended. Dammit.

Fine, okay, the people here can suck it up and listen to him hack up a lung for a few minutes. He brings his hand up and tries to cough as quietly as possible into it, but he knows that isn’t going to be enough. He coughs a bit harder. Nothing. Harder. Still nothing. He hopes a few hard coughs will be enough to get it out and though he gets a few weird looks he’s proven right when two petals fall out of his mouth and into his hand.

He looks down at them and sighs. He still has more to get out, he can feel them rattling around, making his chest hurt, but two will have to do for now.

\---

It's such a relief to see Dave's smile appear at the mention of his precious AJ. He's been so somber and withdrawn lately, Karkat's glad to see him looking a little more like his old self.

He gets halfway down the hall toward the cafe before he realizes he forgot his fucking wallet in his bag. He sighs and turns back around, walking back to the table.

Someone is coughing loudly in the study room, and Karkat winces for them; it sounds like a pretty bad cough. As he rounds the corner, he's concerned to discover that the someone is _Dave_ , his body hunched over itself, shuddering with wracking coughs.

Karkat hurries forward, then stops short as Dave pulls his hand away from his mouth, with something red in his palm. Shit, is that blood? Wait, no-- Karkat's stomach lurches as he realizes what it is.

Dave's holding a pair of flower petals.

"Shit," he says loudly. "Dave--" He rushes forward, his eyes round and afraid. "Are you okay? Fuck, is this... what happened? What's going on? Do you have..." He doesn't want to say it out loud. Doesn't want it to be real, even though the evidence is staring him right in the face.

Who is Dave even in love with, anyway? He barely even hangs out with anyone besides Karkat and John, and Karkat knows Dave's straight so it can't be either of them. This doesn't make any sense.

\---

Dave feels the blood rush from his face when he hears Karkat’s voice, his head snapping to the side and his fingers closing around the petals in his hand. Karkat is standing there, looking worried and confused, and Dave feels sick. He might actually puke.

There’s no way Karkat didn’t see, not with the expression on his face. Fuck, does he know? Did he figure it out? He isn’t looking at Dave with disgust, or worse, _pity_ , so probably not. Fuck, shit what the fuck is he supposed to say?

“Hey, dude,” his mouth says, tone bland even though his voice sounds like his vocal chords have been put through a blender. “Thought you were getting drinks.”

\---

"Yeah, I forgot my wallet," Karkat says, waving his hand vaguely toward his backpack. "But that's not important, Dave, I saw you cough up those petals! Is this..."

A realization dawns on him and he wants to kick himself for not suspecting sooner.

"Fuck, is this why you've been so sick lately?? How long has this been happening? Have you seen a doctor for it? Wait, who--" He lowers his voice as much as he's capable of doing.

"Who are you in love with? And why didn't you tell me about it?"

Karkat's practically bursting with concern, but a small selfish part of him feels crushed that Dave would hide this from him; that Dave didn't even tell him he had a crush on someone, let alone that he'd fallen in love! It's not like Karkat wouldn't understand or, god forbid, would judge Dave for it. He squashes that feeling down _hard_ because fuck, this is not about him right now, this is about Dave and Dave's health.

\---

Something in him relaxes when Karkat asks him who he’s in love with. He hasn’t figured it out, then. But Dave feels a bunch of curious eyes on them and it’s making his skin crawl so he stands up, shoving his shit in his bag and ignoring the dizziness that washes over him.

“Can we not talk about this here?” he asks. “Let’s go to your room.”

Karkat gathers his things and they leave the library in silence. Dave can feel Karkat bursting with questions but he holds them in, thank god, giving Dave time to think. Until they’re safely in Karkat’s room, the door closing heavily behind him. Karkat rounds on him and Dave raises his hands, palms up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Dave says in a rush. “It’s--there’s this girl in my english lit class.”

D didn’t buy this, but Karkat might. It’s more important that Karkat does, anyway. 

“I’ve seen a doctor about it,” he says, because Karkat asked that earlier. “Got my own inhaler and everything.”

\---

A girl in his english lit class? Karkat's brow furrows in confusion. Who the fuck even--he's never heard about any girl in Dave's english lit class, why the fuck hasn't he heard of her before?

He's glad to hear Dave's got the inhaler, but on the other hand, that means this has been happening long enough for him to see a doctor. Long enough that he's definitely been hiding it from Karkat intentionally.

"How long ago did this start?" he demands, holding his hands out pleadingly. He sounds angry and upset to his own ears, but he can't keep the emotion out of his voice. "And again, why didn't you fucking tell me?"

His chest feels tight and his stomach hurts. He knows that Dave doesn't owe him anything, is allowed to keep shit to himself, but it still really fucking sucks, okay? It sucks to feel like Dave doesn't trust him, and it sucks that the only reason they're talking about it right now at all is because Karkat fucking _caught_ Dave coughing up petals behind his back like some horrible shameful disgusting secret.

It hurts, more than he ever would have expected it to hurt. His lip trembles and he bites down on it hard, willing himself not to cry.

\---

Dave’s eyes widen as Karkat’s lower lip wobbles dangerously, and he feels like a piece of shit. Karkat was never supposed to fucking find out about this, and it’s not like Dave can tell him the real reason.

“Because it’s fucking embarrassing,” he says, looking away. He’s glad he has his shades to hide behind, because he can’t look at Karkat’s hurt, angry face right now. “You don’t--your body overreacts to crushes, dude, anyone would be coughing up flowers all the time if their body did that. You’re not in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.”

He runs a hand through his hair anxiously. “It started like a month ago, I guess. Maybe a bit more.”

\---

Dave sounds so sad and defeated, and Karkat's anger drains away until all that's left is a dull, throbbing ache in his chest.

_You're not in love with someone who doesn't love you back._

It's true, Karkat thinks. He's never really been in love before. Despite the vast number of romance novels he's read and romcoms he's seen, he's honestly not sure what being in love is supposed to feel like. Everyone seems to describe it in extremely vague terms, like, "You'll know it when it happens." Fuck that unhelpful nonsense with a rusty fork.

"Sorry, you're right, it's none of my fucking business," he says. "As long as you're getting medical care for it, which you said you are-- I mean, you don't have to tell me anything else. I'm sorry I got upset, it was fucking uncalled for, you didn't do anything wrong, man."

He puts his hand on Dave's shoulder, trying to be comforting. "Do your brothers know, at least? Or John? I hate to think that you've been going through this all by yourself for a whole fucking month."

\---

God, there goes Karkat being too damn forgiving again. He’s a bleeding heart, honestly, and Dave doesn’t deserve someone as good as Karkat in his life. He doesn’t know how anyone could _not_ fall in love with Karkat. It’s fucking baffling.

“They found out last week,” he says. “Or D did, because I kept waking him up with my coughing, and he told the twins because he’s a snitch. John doesn’t know.”

Karkat’s hand on his shoulder is warm and heavy and makes some of his anxiety abate. Karkat’s not mad at him, he doesn’t hate him. This is fine. Dave can still make this work.

“It’s not--I should have told you,” Dave says. “I made you worry so fucking much about me being sick and not eating right and shit.”

He scuffs the floor with his foot, frowning down at it. “I mean I guess you were right about that anyway. I’m sorry.”

\---

"It's fine, Dave, you don't have to apologize," Karkat insists. "I'm glad I know now, though. Have you, uh, told her? I mean, wait, shit, we don't have to talk about it anymore, if you don't want to."

He hesitates, questions bubbling up one after another and sticking in his throat.

"C'mere, sit down at least," he says, tugging Dave over to his bed. "You look like you're about to fucking fall over from exhaustion."

Karkat grabs a packet of Oreo's and tosses it onto the bed, then roots around in his mini fridge and produces two cans of root beer. It's not Dave's drink of choice, but Karkat hands it to him anyway, because if there's one thing he knows about unrequited love, it's that junk food seems to soothe the pain.

\---

Dave lets Karkat pull him to the bed and sits down. He really does feel tired as shit. He looks down at the can of soda and sighs as he opens it. It tastes overly sweet on his tongue, and Dave’s missed junk food so damn much but it also feels like defeat. Even when he tries to do something as easy as eating healthy he fails.

“I haven’t told her,” he says, scooting so his back is resting against the wall. “There’s not really a point, is there? Besides, I already know that h--she’s interested in my brothers.”

He pulls a half-hearted smile onto his face. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

\---

Dave stumbles over his words a bit, but at least he's willing to talk about it. He winces at the mention of Dave's brothers. He's figured out that it's a bit of a sore spot for Dave, that his brothers are so attractive, and Karkat's stupid crushes on them haven't done anything to help Dave feel less insecure about that. Karkat frowns at the rest of what Dave says, though.

"What do you mean there's no point? She might develop feelings for you back, you never know! Or maybe she even likes you already, but you just don't know it yet. Don't give up, man."

He chews through a couple Oreos while he thinks.

"Well, what can you tell me about her? What do you know about her? Maybe I can help you figure out how to talk to her about this," he says. "Not that I have a great track record for getting people to like me, but two heads are better than one or whatever, right?"

\---

Dave laughs humorlessly at Karkat’s optimism, reaching over to grab himself an oreo. 

“She doesn’t like me back,” he says. “Just trust me on that one, dude. And if my charming personality hasn’t won her over by this point there’s not much hope for me against my brothers’ bulging muscles or whatever.”

He sighs. What can he tell Karkat without giving it away? Not much, probably. He decides to keep it as vague as possible. “She’s nice. Cute and funny.” 

He shrugs, awkward.

\---

Karkat's still having trouble wrapping his head around the idea that Dave is in love with someone who doesn't love him back. What kind of idiot wouldn't return his feelings? Dave is totally perfect boyfriend material.

"Bulging muscles or not, you've got plenty to offer in a relationship," Karkat says with a frown. "Don't write yourself off like that, any girl would be lucky to date you, dude. And it sounds like you already have a lot in common with her, you're nice and funny." And cute, too, but Dave might take that the wrong way and get uncomfortable, so Karkat keeps it to himself.

"How do you know she doesn't like you back if you haven't even asked? What's your plan here, exactly, just to keep pining for her and hope your feelings go away on their own before your lungs get completely fucked up?"

What if Dave has to get the surgery? What if he refuses to and... and. Karkat can't think about that possibility. It won't come to that, he'll make sure Dave doesn't do anything stupid like throw his life away for a girl who doesn't even appreciate him.

\---

Dave appreciates that Karkat’s trying to give him a pep talk but it’s really not working. He wants to curl up and sleep and pretend that he doesn’t notice that Karkat leaves ‘cute’ out of his description. He already _knows_ Karkat isn’t attracted to him, he shouldn’t be hurt when he’s reminded of it.

“She’s made it pretty clear she only thinks of me as a friend,” he says, trying not to sound bitter. 

He shrugs and takes a sip of his soda. His plan consisted of ‘make himself attractive’ and that was about it, which is a pretty fucking stupid plan, now that he thinks about it. Would Karkat like him back even if he did miraculously become hot? He doubts it, honestly. 

“I don’t know,” Dave says, lost in thought. “Probably. He’s out of my league, anyway. I should probably just give up.”

\---

Dave is acting so depressed and defeated that Karkat wants to reach over and shake some fucking sense into him, make him realize that he's worthwhile and amazing and he shouldn't be pining over someone who doesn't appreciate him! Instead, he chews at his thumbnail and listens as Dave speaks.

Hold on-- did he just say...?

" _He_?" Karkat says slowly. "Dave, is the person you're talking about, um, a guy?"

\---

Dave freezes, replaying the last thing he said in his mind. Fuck, shit, he’s so fucking bad at this. Karkat’s going to figure it out and reject him and it’s going to ruin _everything_.

“No,” he says quickly, but he wilts under Karkat’s disbelieving gaze. “Shit, I-- maybe? Yes?”

He keeps lying to his best friend and he feels like the scummiest piece of shit on the planet but he’s also _scared_. There’s a cold weight in his gut and he tries to pull his neutral face on but he can’t seem to do it right now, can’t get a hold of himself. 

\---

Dave looks scared--more scared than Karkat's ever seen him before, and it makes something ferociously protective swell up inside him. He _needs_ to fix this, to destroy whatever is making Dave look like that.

"Hey," he says. "It's okay if you like guys. Or girls. Or both, or neither, or if you're still figuring it out or... whatever. It's okay."

He hesitates, not wanting to push Dave away or frighten him more, but he just looks so small and alone and-- "Can I give you a hug?"

\---

God dammit, now he’s made Karkat think he’s uncomfortable with liking dudes--and okay, yeah maybe a bit, maybe Dave wasn’t ready to admit it to himself and the flowers kind of forced it out of him but it’s not about that, not really.

He can’t say that without explaining what it’s _really_ about, though, so when Karkat asks if he can give him a hug, Dave only nods miserably, opening his arms, feeling needy and pathetic. Karkat wraps him up in his arms and it’s soft and warm and Dave’s the absolute worst, taking advantage of him like this.

Dave sighs into Karkat’s shoulder. Exhaustion has made a home at the core of him and he’d give anything just to fall asleep like this, cuddled up next to Karkat, and not feel guilty about it.

“Thanks, man,” he mumbles. 

\---

Karkat holds Dave close, trying not to squeeze him too hard. He gently rubs Dave's back and listens to his breathing, his heavy sigh, the mumble of thanks.

"No problem," he says, probably too loudly into Dave's ear.

It feels so nice to sit like this, tangled together with his best friend. Even though Dave's elbow is poking him in the throat, and his back is twisted uncomfortably, he'd rather die than pull away sooner than Dave wants to. He keeps holding Dave, soaking up the good feeling while it lasts.

\---

Dave tells himself to pull away but can’t actually bring himself to do it. He rubs his face against Karkat’s soft, well-worn sweater and allows himself a few moments of reprieve to just… enjoy this. But they can’t stay like this forever, as much as Dave would like to, so he forces a smile onto his face and moves back. Karkat’s arms fall back to his sides.

“You’re like a fuckin’ personal space heater, dude,” he says lightly. “I don’t know how you’re always so damn warm; I feel like I’m freezing to death here.”

\---

Dave finally does pull away, and Karkat feels a strange urge to pull him back in and keep holding him. That would be weird as shit, though, so he shakes off the feeling and laughs at Dave's comment.

"Yeah, man, it's cause I've got all this extra insulation on me. Not all of us can have the inexplicable metabolism of a marathon runner."

He eats another oreo to punctuate his point, then shoves the packet toward Dave.

"Here, eat up, then you can be warm like me. I guess until then you can just borrow my 'hot' body whenever you need it," he says.

\---

Dave plucks an oreo from the packet and shoves it in his mouth. 

“Very gracious of you,” he says as he chews, hoping it might distract Karkat from the blush he tries to beat back. “You’re gonna regret that when winter rolls around, dude. I’m gonna plaster myself against you like a barnacle and leech your heat til you ain’t got none left.”

He takes another drink of his soda and grabs another cookie.

“God I’ve missed food,” he says before popping it into his mouth.

\---

Karkat attempts to look grouchy at Dave's "threat," but he can't quite keep the smile off his face. He's so relieved that Dave told him all this stuff, even if it wasn't really on purpose. He's just glad Dave isn't just carrying it all inside himself anymore.

"Yeah, no shit, food is amazing," Karkat says. He makes a mental note to pick up some of Dave's favorite snacks next time he's at the store, now that he knows Dave will actually fucking eat them.

They settle back into their usual comfortable banter. Karkat pulls out his textbooks again and the evening plays out full of laughter and chatter and not much homework-doing. Karkat finally kicks Dave out of his room at eleven pm, threatening to find Dave and tie him to a chair tomorrow if he still hasn't finished his trig homework.

He rolls into bed, exhausted and anxious as ever, but glowing with an ember of pride and satisfaction at the smile Dave was still wearing when he left.


	5. Quality Family Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild cw for creepy imagery (see end notes for details)

Dave goes back to eating like a normal person. His energy increases and he doesn’t feel as weak and shaky anymore, except for after a coughing fit. The room stops spinning when he stands up, for the most part, unless he does it really quickly. But that happened before, too.

Karkat seems to take an unreasonable amount of joy in giving him food and actually having him eat it. It’s weird but kind of cute, and Dave maybe plays up how much he loves all the shitty junk food he gets, but only a little.

He isn’t entirely out of hope, yet, so he starts working out more. He runs in the mornings and evenings and spends two hours at the gym every day. He constantly feels sore, like he’s one giant bruise, but that’s fine. As long as it works.

And it does work. Kind of. After a couple weeks--during which his Hanahaki worsens; he’s coughing up six or seven petals at a time, now--he thinks he can see some actual muscle building in his arms. Just a tiny bit, but Dave is glad to see progress at all.

It stalls there, though, and a couple weeks after _that_ , Dave wants to scream. He doesn’t know what he’s doing _wrong_. Maybe his body just isn’t made for this, maybe he’s just supposed to be a skeletal looking freak forever.

It’s a depressing thought, but what else is there? What’s even the point to all of this effort he’s expending if it doesn’t even work? Karkat still obviously doesn’t like him back; he badgers Dave all the time to confess to the person he’s in love with. Dave brushes him off, over and over, but it wears thin soon enough.

He doesn’t get out of bed for his run, one morning. He stays there for the rest of the day. His brothers give him space, for the most part, and let him mope in bed. It’s a weekend, so he doesn’t have classes, and he tells Karkat he’s too tired to hang out.

One day turns into two, two into three. Dave skips his classes on Monday, burrowing under his sheets and trying to ignore the world. It only kind of works.

\---

To Karkat's relief, Dave follows the doctor's orders and goes back to eating normally again. Karkat keeps his dorm room stocked with AJ and Doritos and other varieties of junk food he knows Dave likes.

Dave's still going to the gym every day, which is annoying because it means Karkat doesn't get to see him as much. It seems like it's important to Dave, though, so Karkat tries not to bitch about it, or point out that Dave keeps complaining about his sore muscles and he doesn't even seem to like working out at all, and Karkat has no idea why he's suddenly so obsessed with it, and maybe he should just chill out about it for a while. No, he keeps those thoughts bottled up inside, right where they belong.

He doesn't, however, manage to hold his tongue when it comes to the matter of Dave's unrequited love interest. Dave refuses to confess to the guy--Karkat has to keep calling him "the guy" because Dave won't even tell Karkat his name--and seems determined to just let his Hanahaki get worse and worse without even trying to do something about it. Honestly it's fucking frustrating as hell to watch. Karkat knows from personal experience and extensive research that this shit doesn't get better or go away just because you ignore it. And Dave hasn't even asked the guy out yet, which is so incredibly stupid because it means he still doesn't know if his feelings are actually unrequited! He might be going through all this coughing and pain for no fucking reason.

A tiny, selfish, horrible part of Karkat is relieved, however, that Dave hasn't confessed yet. Because it means Dave still has time to hang out with him, at least when he's not going to the gym. When Dave finally does confess, if the guy likes him back--which he probably will because Dave is so goddamn charming Karkat could actually puke--Karkat won't be able to monopolize his best friend's time anymore. So he tries his best to enjoy it while he can, feeling guilty as hell the whole time for wanting things to stay the way they are.

And they have stayed that way--at least, they have until a few days ago. Because for the past three days, Karkat hasn't seen hide nor hair of his best friend. Dave's texted him with some vague excuses about being too tired to hang out, and Karkat's tried and failed to not feel completely rejected.

Today, however, he's had enough. He waits for Dave outside his last class, not bothering to text him in case Dave tries to brush him off again. He's going to at least get a look at his friend and make sure he's doing okay, and then if Dave wants him to fuck off after that, he will. He won't be happy about it, but at least he'll know Dave is alive and reasonably well.

It's a good plan, he thinks, except that when the students empty out into the hallway, Dave isn't among them.

Karkat frowns. Did Dave skip class today? Is he getting sicker? He pulls out his phone and starts typing a message, then changes his mind and marches back to the dorms instead. He stops by his room and grabs a bottle of AJ as a peace offering, then walks to the Striders' room, entering without bothering to knock. D glances up from the couch where he's doing something on his laptop, and gives Karkat a cool nod, as if angry freshmen bursting into his home unannounced is a daily occurrence.

"Is Dave here?" Karkat asks impatiently.

D tilts his head toward the room he shares with Dave.

Karkat stomps over and knocks loudly on the door. "Hey, Dave, I know you're in there! Tell me now if you're doing something mortifying, otherwise I'm coming in."

\---

Dave is hovering in the kind of daze you fall into when you’re not asleep but not fully awake. Time is thick and nebulous and hazy; he could have been laying here for minutes or hours. He has no way of knowing and honestly he doesn’t give a fuck.

He’s startled out of it by a loud banging on the door and curls up tighter under his blanket. He hears Karkat’s voice and frowns; he told Karkat he isn’t up to hanging out so what’s the deal? Why is he here?

As much as he wants to see Karkat right now, because Karkat always makes him feel better, he also doesn’t want to be reminded of the fact that Karkat doesn’t like him back and probably never will. He just wants to mope and pretend he doesn’t exist for a while; is that so much to ask?

“Go away,” he yells weakly, but his voice is quiet even to his own ears. Fuck it, maybe if he just ignores him Karkat will leave.

\---

Karkat hears an unintelligible mumble and then silence. Well it's not an invitation, but it's also not a panicked, "don't come in, I have my entire fist lodged up my asshole," so he opens the door and enters.

He looks at Dave's bed, then rolls his eyes because all he can see is a single sock-clad foot sticking out from under a pile of blankets. He sighs and crosses the room, pulling the blankets back so he can see Dave's face as he stands over the bed.

Dave looks exhausted and unhappy, but not on the brink of death or anything, which is a relief. Concern and annoyance mingle together in Karkat's chest and he scowls.

"Hey, are you sick or something? Why didn't you go to class today?" he demands. "Seriously, what's going on, Dave? I haven't seen you in three fucking days."

\---

Dave didn’t realize how much he’d missed seeing Karkat’s grumpy face until it’s right in front of him. He blinks up at him blearily, brain working slow, until he realizes the reason his eyes are stinging is because of the light. Because he doesn’t have his shades on. His eyes widen and he grabs the blankets from Karkat’s hand, yanking them back down and squeezing his eyes shut.

He doesn’t need his weird, freaky eyes turning Karkat off of him even more. If that’s even possible.

“I told you, dude,” he says. “I’m tired. Leave me alone.”

\---

"You're tired," Karkat repeats. "So tired that you, what, had to stay in bed for three days? Have you even gotten up to shower or anything? It kind of reeks in here, dude."

Actually that might just be D's weed stank, Karkat thinks, wrinkling his nose. Either way, he's pretty sure Dave shouldn't just be sitting in here marinating in unpleasant smells of dubious origins, instead of, say, going to class or taking care of himself.

He huffs and grabs the blankets again, tugging them away from Dave and throwing them to the end of the bed where he can't reach. Dave's eyes are bare and squinting against the light, and Karkat hands Dave his shades from his desk.

\---

Karkat pulls the covers all the way off this time and Dave winces, squinting. He shoves his shades onto his face when Karkat passes them to him. He sighs and uncurls, saying a mental goodbye to his pleasant thoughtless daze.

He hasn’t showered. He’s barely eaten anything. There’s been a few coughing fits and a handful of petals lay in the trashcan by his bed, but it’s been a surprisingly calm three days for his lungs. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s been mostly unconscious or because he’s been avoiding Karkat.

“What’s up?” he asks, voice sluggish. “What do you want, Karkat?”

\---

Karkat is a little taken aback by the way Dave is acting. He's never seen Dave act like this before, like he doesn't want Karkat around. Insecurity kicks in, and Karkat almost decides to make an excuse and leave, but... _no_. Dave needs someone to take care of him right now, there's clearly something wrong with him, and that's more important than Karkat's pride.

"Well, I want to get you in the shower, to start with," Karkat says. "But first, can you just talk to me? What the fuck is going on that's got you hiding out in bed for three days?"

He has more questions too, but he holds them back, not wanting to overwhelm Dave before he can answer.

-

Dave sees hurt flicker over Karkat’s expression. God, he’s being a douche again, isn’t he? He runs a hand through his hair and grimaces at the feeling.

“Sorry dude,” he says. “I’m just in a funk or something, I guess. I’ve decided to drop the exercise bullshit. I can’t keep working out like three hours a day. Not like it’s having an effect anyway.”

He sighs, slouching down further. Guess this means he’s really giving up the hope of ever getting Karkat to feel the same way. He should suck it up and stop moping and appreciate being able to be his friend, before the Hanahaki gets bad enough that Dave needs to get surgery and cut him out of his life entirely. That’s years down the line, though. Maybe Karkat will get tired of his bullshit well before then.

He wants to go back to sleep.

\---

Karkat stares at him. "Three hours a day?? What the-- no wonder you're fucking tired, idiot, you're not supposed to do that. Especially not when you have a potentially fatal disease that affects your lungs!!"

He shakes his head, sitting down on the bed next to Dave.

"I've been trying to mind my own goddamn business, but I really have to ask: why in the fuck have you been working out so much lately?! You don't even seem to enjoy it, I don't fucking get it."

\---

Dave gives Karkat a doubtful look.

“C’mon, dude, I’m the one with the shitty eyesight here,” he jokes, but Karkat’s face doesn’t change. Dave pulls his legs up and rests his chin on his knees. God, is Karkat really going to make him say it? Dave probably deserves it for blowing him off for the past three days.

“So I can stop looking like a strong wind will make me fall apart, obviously,” he says. “I know I look like a fuckin’ skeleton, dude. Can you blame me for wanting to build some muscle?”

He gives a weak laugh. “But it’s been like two solid months of constant working out and I’ve got shit to show for it, so this is me, accepting my fate.”

\---

Is Dave really that bothered by the fact that he's not muscular? Fuck, Karkat really had no idea. Dave's been keeping so much of himself hidden away, has been trying to _change himself_ , and it makes Karkat's heart clench.

"You don't look like a skeleton, what the hell. You're definitely on the skinny side, but there's nothing wrong with that, it doesn't make-- I mean, you're still--" Karkat stumbles over his words, flushing and looking away. "Whatever, Dave--you have to know you're good-looking, you don't need me to tell you that."

He frowns, looking back at Dave. "And anyway, that's no excuse for treating your body like shit and overworking it! Especially since you weren't eating enough recently. You have to take care of yourself, fucking christ. Or apparently, _I_ have to take care of you since you won't do it yourself, and your useless brothers are just fucking around all day letting you waste away in here! Do you not see something wrong with this picture?!"

He's panting by the time he finishes, his voice practically loud enough for the whole dorm to hear.

\---

Dave frowns as Karkat talks. His heart trips over itself when Karkat says that he’s good-looking, but his brain helpfully points out that he’s not good-looking _enough_ , apparently, if he is at all. He might have even said so, but then Karkat drags his brothers into this and he scowls.

“My bros are the fuckin’ best, dude,” he says. “Just because they give me space sometimes doesn’t mean they’re letting me ‘ _waste away_.’ And it’s not their responsibility to take care of me anyway. I’m an adult and they aren’t my parents.”

He hugs his legs tighter. He hates fighting with Karkat, but he’s not about to let him shit talk his brothers like that. His brothers are _awesome_ , everyone knows that. _Karkat_ knows that; he has a crush on three of them and Dave has no doubt that if he ever met Bro he’d be coughing up flowers over him, too. It’s Dave who’s the odd man out.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he continues. “I told you, I’m not gonna do it anymore. I’m giving up my dumb plan and resigning myself to unrequited pining and we can go back to hanging out whenever you want, okay? Just chill, dude.”

Karkat’s yelling is starting to make his head pound.

\---

Karkat listens to Dave talk, his heart squeezing at the way Dave curls tighter in on himself, at the scowl on his face. Shit, Dave sounds actually pissed at him. Karkat knows he should just shut up if he wants to preserve his friendship with Dave, but he fucking... he can't let this go, okay?!

"No, Dave, it's not okay. It's painfully fucking obvious how much it's not okay. You seem really depressed and fucked up, and I'm also honestly really pissed at you, which isn't great either! You're doing such a shit job of taking care of yourself, you're making me worry about you all the goddamn time! And obviously your brothers aren't your parents, but you need _someone_ looking out for you if you aren't going to do it yourself. I know it's your life, and it's not my business but I can't fucking help it, I fucking care about you, you asshole. I can't just watch you treat yourself like shit for literal months and not say anything about it!"

He bunches his hands in his pant legs anxiously, sure that Dave is about to kick him out of this room and out of his life forever.

\---

Karkat rips into him and Dave can’t help the little flinch he does when Karkat says he’s pissed at him. Dave is fucking this all up. It’s a miracle that Karkat gives a shit about him at all.

“Sorry,” Dave says. What else is there to say, really?

“You don’t have to worry anymore dude, okay? I’m not gonna exercise anymore, I’m eating normal again. And I’m--I’m done moping now, okay?”

To prove his point, Dave reluctantly uncurls and stands up. He offers Karkat a brittle smile.

“I’ll shower and we can hang out,” he says. “Things will go back to normal.”

Back to how they were before Dave started coughing up petals. He’ll gather up his feelings for Karkat and squash them down so far he’ll hardly know they’re there until a coughing fit hits. He’ll give up his stupid idea of getting Karkat to like him back, since all it’s done so far has made Karkat stressed and pissed at him, and everything will be fine again.

\---

Karkat grimaces at Dave's expression, fake and flat and unhappy. He did that to Dave, and that really sucks. At least Dave's getting out of bed now, that's something.

"Okay," he says. "Go take a shower, I'll wait for you here."

Dave nods and grabs his stuff, then leaves the room. Karkat falls back onto the bed, covering his face with a groan. He's fucking up so hard right now and he can't stop himself, it's like a goddamn trainwreck. He pleads with himself to be less of a jackass for the rest of the day.

The smell in here is starting to give him a headache, so he gets up and heads to the living room, opening Dave's window on the way out.

D is still on the couch, now playing one of the Tony Hawk games or something. He glances up at Karkat. "Li'l man takin' a shower?"

Karkat nods.

"Thank fuckin' god, cause it was starting to smell like way too much unwashed ass in that room," D says.

"Oh, like you don't trail around your own personal cloud of grubby weed-stink twenty-four seven," Karkat grouses.

D's mouth twitches and it's almost a smile.

Karkat rolls his eyes and sits in a chair, slumping immediately into his terrible posture. He pulls up his phone and starts reading the romance e-book he downloaded last night.

A couple months ago he might have felt awkward sitting here with just D in the room, but he's gotten pretty used to Dave's brothers at this point. They're still weird as fuck, but he's not intimidated by them anymore. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn't coughed up flowers for any of them for several weeks at least. They're still hot, of course, but they're also fucking insufferable assholes a good ninety percent of the time. Honestly Karkat thinks if he'd actually dated any of them he might have ended up in jail for manslaughter with how much they get on his nerves. Anyway, they're nowhere near as fun to hang out with as Dave is.

\---

Dave showers. He washes his hair twice before it starts sudsing up, which is pretty gross. No one else is in the room so he makes himself cough up a few petals, hoping to get it out and over with so he won’t have to ditch hanging out with Karkat to do it. His throat burns and his chest hurts but he sucks it up and deals with it.

He dries off and gets dressed quickly, then goes to the sinks to brush his teeth. His reflection looks pale and tired, even with his shades on, and he grimaces at himself.

It didn’t used to be like this. Dave has always known he’s less attractive than his brothers, that his eyes are off-putting and he’s kind of creepily thin, but he was like, vaguely okay with that. He didn’t look at it too closely, just accepted that that’s how things were and moved on. It’s only recently that he sees his reflection and winces, that his eyes roam over his face and his body and only sees things he would change if he could.

Being in love kind of sucks ass.

He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts, gathers up his shit, and heads back to the room. He’s surprised to find Karkat and D chilling in the shared space and his concern over Karkat wars with jealousy.

“‘Sup?” Dave says blandly. D gives him a nod and Dave gestures to the stuff in his hands when Karkat looks up. “Lemme just put this shit away and we can go.”

Dave goes to his room and dumps his gross smelly pjs in the laundry bin and shelves his shower caddy before heading back out.

“Ready, dude?”

\---

Dave's appearance--and smell--is definitely improved from his shower. His face is still peaked and tired, but his hair has lost that limp, greasy look and returned to its usual soft, clean state.

Karkat stands up, ready to follow Dave wherever he wants to go, but before they get any farther, the twins' door opens and Dirk and Hal walk into the living room.

"Is that our baby brother's dulcet tones I hear?" Hal says. "Shit, and here I thought you'd keep hibernating in your room for the rest of the semester."

Karkat has spent enough time around the Striders that he can hear the comment for what it is: genuine concern and affection for Dave. He actually does feel bad about trash talking them earlier. He knows they care about each other, of course they do, they're just infuriatingly, obstinately insistent about never wanting to show it.

"I was just about to order a couple pizzas," Dirk says, fiddling with his phone. "Could add on an extra pie with half pineapple if you guys wanted to stick around for a slice or two."

Karkat's jaw drops open and he snaps it shut before anyone can make fun of him. But seriously, this is practically a signed, sealed invitation coming from Dirk. Damn, the twins really must be worried about Dave.

Karkat doesn't usually tag along when Dave's doing shit with his brothers, for obvious reasons, but he knows Dave won't stay to hang out with them unless Karkat does too. And honestly, it seems like Dave could use the extra support right now--not to mention the twins seem to be in need of reassurance that Dave isn't completely fucked up. Not that Karkat's convinced Dave's okay, himself, but whatever--it still seems like a good idea. Karkat can just deal with the coughing for the next few days, it's fine.

He turns to Dave with a shrug. "Free pizza doesn't sound entirely revolting to me. Up to you though, dude."

\---

Dave rolls his eyes at Hal’s comment, and is about to decline Dirk’s offer when Karkat speaks up. He subconsciously pulls on his blank face.

Karkat doesn’t hang out with Dave’s brothers for a reason. Doing so will just make his Hanahaki act up and honestly, Dave doesn’t trust his brothers enough to not give Karkat shit over it.

There’s also the feelings of hurt and jealousy squirming in his gut, but he does his best to ignore them. Dave can’t blame Karkat for jumping on the chance to spend time with his crushes. He knows Karkat isn’t using him as a springboard to get into their good graces, because Karkat isn’t like that, but the reflexive worry is still there.

Karkat’s a big boy; he can decide for himself how to handle his illness, just like Dave can. And Dave isn’t enough of an asshole to squash this opportunity for his friend, so he gives a Cool Guy nod.

“Sure,” he says. “Never say no to free food.”

The twins exchange a glance, which is never a good thing, and Hal comes over and roughly ruffles his hair. Dave bats him away, mightily insulted.

\---

Dave looks carefully blank as he agrees to stay, and Karkat wonders if he's made the right decision by meddling in Dave's life again. Well, it's too fucking late to second guess himself now. He plops back down in the chair, snickering as he watches Hal ruffle Dave's hair.

D sets down his controller and stretches, the hem of his shirt rising up to give Karkat an eyeful of his toned lower abs. "Shit, is it the Brady Bunch hour up in here? Are we about to have a wholesome family evening? Somebody text Bro and tell him to get his ass over here too, he's probably been jerking off and crying to himself ever since lil Davey moved out, probably has chafe marks all over his--"

"Fucking gross, dude," Dirk says, his expression unchanged. "Keep talking like that and you're gonna make Karkat think our family is a bunch of sickos."

"Too late," Karkat mutters, then flushes as he realizes he said that out loud.

D huffs out a short breath that might be a laugh. "Fine, I'll quit my rambling, but only because we have _company._ "

Dirk wanders off to order the pizza. Hal hoists Dave over his shoulder, suplexing him onto the couch next to D, then sits down beside him with a smirk. He grabs a couple of controllers and tosses one to Karkat, who fumbles and drops it immediately, his face hot.

Something about these assholes puts him way the fuck on edge. Oh right, it's probably the fact that they're all _ridiculously, pants-shittingly attractive._

\---

Dave lets out an unattractive yelp as Hal lifts him up and tosses him onto the couch like he’s lighter than air. His face feels warm as Hal sits beside him, oozing smugness, and Dave elbows him hard in the side, getting a satisfactory _oof_ in return.

“Bro couldn’t wait to kick my ass out of the apartment and into the dorm,” Dave comments as D boots up a game. “I was driving him crazy. Have any of y’all heard from him recently? Last I knew he was takin’ Cal on the road for a bit.”

“He’s back in town,” D says. “Might stop by for a visit soon.”

Great, that’s just what Dave needs. Karkat to meet his oldest brother and get a crush on _him_ , too. Maybe Dave can time it so Bro and Karkat never get to see each other. Though, knowing Bro, he’ll wanna meet the person Dave’s sick over.

He doesn’t doubt that D snitched on him to Bro, too. D is the closest to Bro in age and therefore the closest to him period. Bro’s kind of really fucking weird but he means well. Still, Dave doubts that Bro misses him at all.

“Pizza will be here in twenty,” Dirk says, walking back into the room. He plops himself down between Dave and Hal, halfway on both their laps.

“Oh my god, get your bony ass off of me,” Dave groans, scooting up against D.

“My ass is plush as shit,” Dirk says. “You’re just jealous.”

That hits a bit too close to home, but Dave isn’t about to say so.

“Stop your bitchin’ and grab a controller,” D says.

There’s only four controllers so Dave opts out. He’ll let Karkat have his chance.

\---

Karkat has no idea who or what 'Cal' is, but he's sure as shit not going to ask. Based on the little he's heard about Dave's oldest brother, it's almost guaranteed to be something inscrutably weird and horrifying.

He watches as the four brothers squeeze onto the couch together, squashing Dave between them, which is objectively hilarious. D starts up the game and Karkat frowns as he notices Dave doesn't have a controller. The game has already started, though, so he resigns himself to playing at least a little while without Dave.

The glitchy, fucked up mechanics of the game have Karkat grinding his teeth in frustration before the first round is even over, and he feels a headache coming on. He yells angrily as he tries to move his character forward and instead it clips through the fucking floor, falling to its poorly-animated death.

"Dave, you have to take over for me," he says, waving the controller and scooting over in his chair to make room for his friend. "If I have to endure one more second of this bullshit-ridden digital nightmare I swear to god I'm going to lose my fucking mind!!"

\---

“What? No, dude, you’re doing great,” Dave assures him. “Look, you found a glitch _I_ didn’t even know was there.”

Karkat still looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel, so Dave gets up to squeeze into the chair next to him and take the controller out of his hands.

“You have zero chill, bro,” D says, his lip twitching up for a second at the corner, which is basically a Strider grin. Karkat would probably be ecstatic if he weren’t currently grumbling angrily under his breath, arms crossed. It’s kind of adorable.

Dave manages to glitch through a wall and into a different section of the game entirely where he racks up points by repeatedly smashing the right trigger while crouching until Hal’s character comes in and rudely punches him in the face until he dies.

“Dick,” Dave scoffs. Hal flips him off.

\---

Karkat alternates between watching the game with annoyance and looking at the Strider boys surrounding him in the room. It was only a few months ago, he realizes, that he was friendless and miserable, his whole life consisting of moping and coughing and being rejected by one person after another.

Not that he's had any more luck romantically than before, but he honestly thinks what he has with Dave is _better_ than romance. Dave's sweet and caring and fun to hang out with, and Karkat always likes spending time with him. Even when he's acting like a complete dumbass, which is most of the time.

Dave does seem a lot better than he did when Karkat got here, though, and hopefully he really does mean it that he's going to stop working out like a maniac. He really doesn't _need_ to, he looks fine the way he is. Karkat looks from Dave to his brothers and sure, admittedly his brothers are more muscular, their faces would probably be considered more conventionally attractive than Dave's, but--

Karkat looks back at the TV before anyone can ask why the fuck he's staring so much. He thinks, though, that he likes to look at Dave a lot more than he likes to look at anyone else. He guesses that's just how it is when you're really close friends with someone, they start to look more attractive to you, right? It's probably something psychological, he's sure Dave's weirdo cousin Rose would know about it.

He watches them play a few more rounds, and then Dirk slips out of the room and comes back with several delicious-smelling boxes of pizza.

Several strange things happen at once. Hal leaps over the back of the couch and runs at Dirk full speed. Dirk steps back, balancing the pizza boxes in one hand, and whips out--is that a real katana??--from god knows where. Hal suddenly has a sword in his hand too, and they clash blades right there in the living room. Karkat looks to Dave and D sitting on the couch, watching with disinterested expressions.

"What the fuck is happening?!" Karkat squawks.

"Pizza fight," D says unhelpfully.

\---

Dirk and Hal start their customary pizza fight while D and Dave turn their attention back to the TV. D’s too chill to bother with sword fighting and Dave’s still kind of exhausted; Dirk would kick his ass even more easily than usual.

Karkat is gawping at the twins, though, like he’s never seen anything like this, and for a moment Dave is worried this is going to make his crush on the them even bigger, but then he turns his eyes to Dave, making a _what the actual fuck is this bullshit_ expression. Dave has become very familiar with this look.

He shrugs.

“Pizza fight, dude,” he repeats, as though those words are sufficient enough to explain everything. Until Karkat started pointing shit out to him, Dave didn’t realize how weird his family was. Pizza fights probably aren’t something that a lot of people do, huh?

The fight ends with Hal knocking some boxes out of Dirk’s hand, sending them sliding across the room, and D stands. The twins both lower their swords.

“A’ight, kiddos, that’s enough,” D says, swooping to pick the box up. “Let’s eat.”

D doesn’t eat pizza, but he peeks into the box and passes it over to Dave before grabbing the box of chicken wings for himself.

“Aw fuck yeah, pineapple,” Dave cheers as he opens the box. Half of it is pepperoni and mushrooms, for Karkat. Dave thinks mushrooms are pretty disgusting, but Karkat thinks the same thing about pineapple on pizza, so it evens out.

\---

Every time Karkat thinks he's seen peak Strider idiocy he's swiftly and soundly proven wrong.

Thankfully the pizzas remain intact after the fight, although some of the pineapple bits have traveled from Dave's side to his, as Karkat notices with displeasure. He flicks them away, then shoves a hot, cheesy slice into his mouth. The roof of his mouth is on fire but he chews through the pain because it just tastes too goddamn delicious.

D does something to the TV and the game disappears, replaced by a movie logo: “Saw IV.” God dammit. Karkat's never seen any of the Saw movies before but he knows they're fucking terrifying. Okay, it's fine, he'll just have to look away from the screen... for the whole movie... He can do that, it's gonna be totally fine.

It starts with a predictably creepy scene and Karkat tenses up, chewing anxiously as he absolutely fails to look away from the screen. A loud noise booms from the speakers and he jumps, nearly sending the pizza box flying from his lap. He grumbles and grabs another slice, hiding his face behind the pizza as the movie plays.

It's totally not fucking fair that he's the only person here who gets scared shitless by these stupid movies. At least he's got Dave here to comfort him, otherwise he's pretty sure he'd have to run screaming from the room.

\---

Dave is chilling, enjoying his pizza and the warmth of Karkat next to him, when Karkat jumps like a foot in the air. It startles him more than the movie, and Dave suddenly recalls that oh yeah, Karkat’s a chicken shit when it comes to horror. It’s not Dave’s favorite genre either--at least not the _good_ ones--but he can handle it.

If it was just the two of them Dave would crack a joke, reassure Karkat that everything’s fine. Probably turn the movie off, honestly. But his brothers are here and he doesn’t want to embarrass Karkat or call attention to it--he especially doesn’t want them calling Karkat a pussy for jumping at horror movies. So all he can really do is lean into Karkat’s shoulder a tiny bit and offer a small smile when Karkat looks at him.

“D loves the shit out of horror movies,” he says. “You wanna head out?”

He probably doesn’t. So far Karkat’s been doing pretty well, hanging out with his brothers. D likes him a lot, Dave can tell. It makes him want to grit his teeth but he takes solace in the fact that Karkat isn’t interested in a no-strings-attached hookup, and that’s really all D does.

\---

Karkat really fucking wants to take the out Dave's offering him, but... he glances at D, who's carefully not looking at them, his brow creased ever so slightly. Karkat looks back at Dave and shakes his head.

"I can suck it up and spend a couple hours being traumatized out of my skull," he says. "Anyway, it wouldn't be very 'cool' of us to cut and run right when the movie started."

He's definitely going to regret this, when he's up all night with nightmares, but he just can't bring himself to break up this rare moment of nonviolent family bonding.

"Can't believe you'd break one of the cardinal Strider rules just for the sake of catering to my wimpy ass," he says, nudging Dave with an appreciative smile. "You must like me a lot."

\---

Dave is surprised Karkat doesn’t immediately jump on the chance to leave. Karkat couldn’t care less about being cool, usually, but he probably wants to save face in front of Dave’s brothers. Then Karkat says _you must like me a lot_ and Dave feels his cheeks flare and has to look away from his adorable smile before he combusts.

His brothers are all staring at the screen, but Dave is well aware that they’re paying heavy attention to this train wreck and that more than anything makes Dave want to cringe away and hide. It’s bad enough that he knows Karkat prefers his bros over him, but having them know, too, is just extra shitty. At least normally it’s not like, out in the open like this.

“No shit, dude,” Dave says quietly, pulling on an awkward smile.

He leans back and tries to relax, which is difficult to do while watching a puppet torture people with mind games and actual torture. Karkat jumps at every little thing and Dave catches him closing his eyes on numerous occasions. He wants to wrap his arm around Karkat’s shoulder or something cliche like that, but instead he just leans against him more firmly and lets his pinky cross over Karkat’s where their hands lay between them.

\---

Dave's cheeks are distinctly red, which might be more concerning if Dave didn't blush approximately eighteen times a week. Karkat isn't honestly sure _what_ he did to embarrass Dave this time, but he knows he's an embarrassing kind of guy, so he's not exactly surprised. Dave doesn't seem upset with him, at least; on the contrary, he offers Karkat a crooked smile before turning back to the movie.

Karkat tries to keep his shit together, he really does, but every single scene makes him startle and cower in fear. Now that he thinks about it, that's probably what was embarrassing Dave earlier: the fact that Karkat's acting like a pussy in front of his brothers. He tries to close his eyes less and watch the movie more, but it just makes him even more jumpy.

At one point, Dave leans close against him and lays his pinky over Karkat's as if he's trying to comfort him discreetly. Karkat can't help a small smile from passing over his lips at how considerate his friend is. Fuck, he really doesn't deserve Dave, never has.

A particularly gory scene starts playing and Karkat feels his stomach turn, his heart pounding with fear. He closes his eyes and clutches Dave's hand, turning to bury his face in Dave's shoulder. He takes several deep, shuddering breaths, willing himself not to cry or puke or pass out.

When he finally looks up again, the credits are rolling, thanks to some small fucking miracle.

He slumps back into his seat, and lets go of Dave, looking up at him sheepishly. "Sorry I freaked out on you. Guess it was a little more than I could handle, after all."

\---

Dave’s heart stops beating for a moment when Karkat grabs his hand and buries his head in Dave’s shoulder. Oh fuck, fuck, Dave can feel his pulse in his face he’s blushing so hard, and it feels like all eyes in the room are on him. His chest aches and he swears he can feel the flowers blooming there.

He should have insisted they leave. Karkat _hates_ horror movies. Even if he wanted to spend more time with his crushes, it’s not like this is the best way to do so.

When Karkat pulls back he looks really pale and kind of like he’s about to be sick.

“It’s fine, dude,” Dave says. “Horror is overrated and the Saw movies suck ass anyway.”

“The Saw movies are the perfect encapsulation of modern day horror,” D protests. Dave rolls his eyes.

“They’re torture porn, bro,” Hal says. “Just admit it.”

“D’s super into movies and what they ‘say about society,’” Dave explains. “He probably would’ve gone to film school if he didn’t get a full scholarship here for swimming.”

Dave actually thinks D’s thoughts on movies and shit are pretty interesting, but he’s always been much more into horror than Dave.

\---

"What the fuck does this movie say about society, then? That people get upset when you brutally mutilate them? Because I could have told you that myself without spending millions of dollars to make a film," Karkat scoffs.

D opens his mouth but Karkat keeps going, not giving him a chance to speak.

"I mean, come on, there weren't even any compelling romantic relationships--or friendships!--in it. How can a movie have anything valuable to say about society when it doesn't have interesting relationships?" He shakes his head. "The only character I could see as a potential romantic interest for the lead was his friend who he was trying to save, but they barely even interacted at all! Clearly the creators of this movie undervalue the significance of interpersonal relationships in the overall human experience, which isn't exactly a fucking surprise, considering it's a Western film marketed towards men. But come on, how is our society going to progress if we keep encouraging half it's members to remain as emotionally stunted as possible?"

Karkat's rant is followed by a long moment of stillness, until D doubles over on the couch, gasping and shaking. For a second Karkat panics, thinking he's having a seizure or something, but then he realizes D's fucking _laughing_ at him.

Karkat crosses his arms with a frown, offended. He wasn't trying to be funny.

When D finally stops shaking with silent laughter he wipes an ironic (?) tear away from behind his shades. "Shit, you really talk as much as the lil man does, don't you? You actually made some decent points, and I appreciate your weird-ass romcom analysis of fucking--" he snorts again " _Saw IV_ , but I think you're missing a lot from not having seen the first three. I'd offer to let you borrow them, but..."

"Yeah, you're not gonna catch me watching another one of those bloodbaths, no fucking thank you," Karkat says.

"'S what I thought," D says with a smirk. He looks at Dave with an odd expression, then stands up, grabbing his empty box of wings. "Well, later, kids. It's been real as shit."

He salutes them with two fingers on his forehead and disappears out the door. Karkat can't help staring at his ass as he leaves. It's a really, really great ass.

He turns and sees the twins have also fucked off somewhere, so it's just him and Dave here, still squashed together in their too-small seat. "Well, what do you wanna do now?"

\---

Karkat _goes off_ on D and it’s hilarious to watch. Karkat and his romcoms, man. Dave has to hand it to him, he’s definitely passionate about them.

About halfway through the twins look at each other and slip silently off the couch, taking their leave. Dirk gives Dave a thumbs up, which Dave interprets as ‘glad you’re not laying in bed in a coma anymore.’

Then Karkat makes D _laugh_ , which is hella rare. And not just a little chuckle, but a full body laugh. Dave isn’t sure if he should be proud of his friend or worried that D seems to be taking an interest. He still hasn’t decided by the time D wanders off with his chicken wings to go to something or other. Probably smoke.

“D likes you a lot,” Dave tells Karkat, instead of answering his question. “And the twins are warming up to you. Good job, dude.”

He forces a little smile onto his face, feeling anxiety crawling over his skin. Even if one of his brothers _does_ end up liking Karkat back, Dave’s like 80% sure they wouldn’t say anything, thanks to Dave hacking up flowers over him. Which kind of sucks for Karkat.

“Do you wanna go to your room?” he asks. “We can watch more movies. I’ll even sit through a romcom and only talk a little bit of shit to make up for the horror D put us through.”

\---

Karkat squirms at Dave's insinuation. He feels like he should probably be more proud of the way he's started to win over Dave's brothers, and he _does_ feel good about it, but he thinks Dave's not exactly on the same page with him about this whole crush situation. A few months ago, yeah, Karkat would have done anything to date one of them, but now... well, he's not sure anymore.

He still thinks they're hot, but he's aware now that there's a difference between being attracted to someone and wanting to date them. And he knows dating any of those three bozos could only end in disaster and annoyance for all involved.

Dave probably doesn't want to hear about this shit, though. He always seems to get uncomfortable when Karkat talks about how hot his brothers are, so Karkat lets it slide for now.

"Yeah, a romcom sounds good," he says. "I need to watch something good and sappy to cleanse this experience from my poor traumatized frontal lobe."

He squeezes out of the chair to stand, offering a hand to Dave.

\---

“Dope,” Dave says, taking Karkat’s hand and letting him heft him up. Karkat’s palm is warm and soft under his own and it makes his stomach squirm. “Gimme a sec.”

He grabs his phone from his room and slips on a red sweater, since he always gets so cold. Then he comes back, puts on his shoes, and he’s ready to go.

It’s not a long trek to Karkat’s room, and when they get there Dave does his traditional faceplant onto Karkat’s bed, breathing deep and heaving a dramatic sigh. It smells exactly like Karkat, like cinnamon and hot chocolate and _warmth_.

“I gotta get me one of these mattress toppers, bro,” Dave says. “I think I might fall asleep again right here.”

He can practically _hear_ Karkat rolling his eyes, and he starts up an obnoxious fake snore.

\---

Karkat rolls his eyes at Dave's antics, but can't help smiling too. He grabs his laptop and climbs into bed, shoving Dave's feet out of the way.

"Come on, get your lazy ass up, we're gonna watch the shit out of _27 Dresses._ "

He starts the movie up, curling up in his blankets next to Dave, feeling a thousand times more comfortable with the familiar poppy soundtrack playing instead of the metallic screeching and clanking sounds from Saw.

Karkat's phone buzzes in his pocket and he jumps violently, then collapses against Dave while he waits for his heart rate to calm down.

"Guess that movie really shook me up," he grumbles, pulling his phone out.

He reads the message. It's Dave's friend John, asking if he's heard from Dave recently, and Karkat shoves his phone at Dave to show him.

"Seems like your other friends are worried about you too," he says. "You better text John to tell him you've come to your senses and stopped avoiding everyone who cares about you."

\---

Dave laughs as he sits up, settling in next to Karkat to watch the dumb romcom Karkat likely knows by heart at this point. When Karkat jumps it startles Dave a bit too, but he smiles when Karkat tells him John’s asking about him.

John can kind of be a self-centered airhead at times, but he’s a good friend. Dave’s best friend, though he’s been spending a lot more time with Karkat recently, when he wasn’t busy working out. Maybe John’s feeling neglected.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says flippantly, pulling out his phone. “You’ve already made your point.”

He sends John a message apologizing for not being around, explaining that he’s been busy, and makes plans to hang out tomorrow night. John accepts this without question and that’s that. Everything is easier with John.

“Alright, now back to your boring ass romcom,” Dave says, making sure his voice is heavy with disinterest. Karkat shoots him a glare and he laughs “I’m kidding. Alright, catch me up. Who’s this chick? Is she the one with all the dresses?”

He presses his shoulder against Karkat’s, leaning some of his weight onto the other boy. There’s no reason for it other than that Dave just enjoys it, but Karkat doesn’t seem to find it weird. He even initiates it, sometimes, which is nice.

It’s almost like cuddling. Almost. Dave bets Karkat would be the fucking best at cuddling. Dave probably isn’t cut out for it though. He’s too thin and pointy, not at all comfortable like Karkat is.

\---

Karkat leans gratefully back against Dave, snuggling up to him for comfort. Dave's thin and bony and sometimes his elbows jab uncomfortably into Karkat's side, but Karkat finds he doesn't really mind it much at all. Being pressed thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder with his best friend is the best thing he could ask for, the perfect accompaniment to a movie watching experience.

He tells Dave about all the characters and their various relationship issues while Dave interrupts to banter back at him, and the rest of the movie passes in much the same fashion. By the end of it, Karkat's yawning and having trouble keeping his eyes open, leaning heavily against Dave's shoulder.

"Mmmrh, I don't wanna get up," he mumbles. "Too tired."

He really doesn't want Dave to leave yet, though. Partly because he's still on edge from that damn movie. An idea occurs to him: he's never really gotten to have a sleepover with a friend before. Maybe Dave would...?

"Hey, uh, do you want to sleep over tonight?" he asks, feeling a little nervous. Maybe Dave will think that's weird, or babyish of him to ask.

\---

Dave stays true to his word and doesn’t make fun of the movie nearly as much as he usually would. They still talk through most of it anyway. Everything Karkat tells him about the characters and their motivations and relationships goes in one ear and out the other, but he likes how excited Karkat sounds as he talks.

He’s obviously getting tired by the end of it, though. Sleepy Karkat is heart wrenchingly adorable, and Dave doesn’t want to leave but he’s about to suggest he head back when Karkat asks him to stay the night and Dave perks up.

“Sure, dude,” he says, trying not to be too obviously excited. “I never really got the sleepover experience. Are we gonna stay up all night doing our nails and gossipping?”

Dave’s crashed on John’s couch a couple times after he stayed over playing games too late, but that’s about it. Unless he counts the times he went over to his cousin Rose’s house when he was young and she made him pretend to be a patient while she played the therapist, and he really doesn’t want to count those times.

The biggest problem is that there’s only Karkat’s little bed in the room, since he doesn’t have a roommate. But that’s fine, Dave can sleep on the floor. Karkat hopefully won’t mind giving up a pillow.

\---

Dave says yes, and Karkat's face breaks into a smile before he can stop it.

"Doing our nails, huh?" he says, looking at his bitten-down ones. "Not unless you brought along a manicure kit with you. Gossip I could probably manage, though, but I don't know how much I'll be able to contribute, seeing as the only person I hang out with is right here in this room."

He stands up and grabs his pajamas and toothbrush. "Do you need to borrow anything? I've got extra pajamas, although the pants might be a little short on you." He eyes Dave's long legs enviously.

\---

Karkat looks pointedly at his freakishly long, twig-thin legs and Dave clears his throat awkwardly, drawing Karkat’s eyes back up to his face. Before all this, Dave would have just slept in his boxers, but now the thought of Karkat seeing him like that makes his skin crawl. He doesn’t want Karkat to know how easy it is to count his ribs.

“If that means I get to wear one of your comfy sweaters then hell yeah,” he says. “Gimme your softest one, don’t be stingy, Vantas.”

Karkat digs him out a pair of pjs and Dave bundles them up in his arms and says, “I’ll go change in the bathroom, be right back.”

He’s out of the room before Karkat can say anything, and when he gets to the bathroom he locks himself in a stall, gets to his knees, and coughs until there are tears stinging his eyes and a pile of rose petals in the toilet. They’d been building since Karkat showed up and Dave stares at them miserably. This is the most he’s ever hacked up at one time. That can’t be good.

He pops a cough drop in his mouth and stands up shakily to change. The pants only come down to about halfway down his calves and he has to tie the drawstring tight. The sweater is possibly the best thing he’s ever touched, though. It’s soft in a way clothes only get after many, many uses, and it’s warm and baggy, the neckline first falling off his shoulder a bit before he adjusts it. It makes him feel slightly less shitty about his situation, even though he likely looks ridiculous.

“Dude, this is the best thing ever,” he says when he walks back in the room. “No wonder you wear these things all the time.”

\---

Dave rushes off to the bathroom, so Karkat changes in his room while he’s got the privacy. He sets up his pillows in bed so there’s one for him and Dave, and gets his CPAP set up for the night. He’s about to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth when Dave gets back, looking delighted with himself in Karkat’s too-short pants and baggy sweater.

Karkat snorts. “Yeah, it’s my favorite one, too, so don’t even think about trying to steal it. I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back. Try not to break anything while I’m gone.”

As he stands in front of the mirror, brushing his teeth, Karkat has an odd feeling, like he’s been forgetting something. Then he realizes what it is: his lungs haven’t been bothering him all day, even after hanging out with Dave’s brothers. That’s... weird, right? He distinctly remembers ogling them on more than one occasion today. He spits and rinses, coughing lightly to feel out his lungs, and yeah, they’re completely fucking empty.

What the fuck does _that_ mean? He stares at himself in the mirror for several seconds until the door opens and one of his floormates walks in with a shower caddy. Karkat shakes himself and grabs his shit together, then heads back to his room.

When he gets back, he yelps as he nearly steps on Dave, who’s inexplicably lying on the fucking floor. For a second he thinks maybe Dave passed out again, but no, he’s just chilling there looking at Karkat like what he’s doing is completely normal.

“What the fuck are you doing down there, trying to give me a goddamn heart attack?” he yells. “Not to mention getting dirt and dust all over my fucking clothes, dude, what the hell!”

\---

Karkat goes off to brush his teeth or whatever and Dave looks around, frowning. The floor is definitely going to be uncomfortable but eh. He grabs one of the pillows on Karkat’s bed and lays down on the floor, wiggling around and trying to find the most comfortable position. There’s not an extra blanket as far as he can see which kind of sucks, but Karkat’s cozy sweater will hopefully keep him warm enough.

He thinks he might have finally got into a position he can sleep in when Karkat almost steps on him. He looks at his friend like he’s crazy.

“Uh, I’m trying to sleep?” he says obviously. “Maybe you should clean your floors more often if there’s dust and dirt all over them, Kitkat. Do you have a blanket I could use for the night?”

\---

"Yeah I have a blanket you can use, it's on my fucking bed, where it's going to stay!" Karkat says. Why the fuck was Dave trying to sleep on the floor? Oh shit. Karkat's eyes widen as he realizes belatedly that maybe his friend isn't comfortable with sharing a bed. He didn't even think about that, holy shit, what a great friend he is.

"Uh, unless you don't want to share," he amends quickly. "Is it weird to do that? Fuck, I've never done a sleepover before, sorry, I have no idea what's 'normal' or not..."

He looks dubiously at the uncomfortable looking floor, then sighs. "If you don't want to share, then at least let me take the floor and you can have the bed, since you're my fucking guest here, numbskull." He's pretty sure he won't get a single minute of sleep down there, but whatever, he's had worse nights before.

\---

Dave sits up, frowning.

“There’s no way you’re sleeping on the floor, dude,” he says firmly. “You gotta be hooked up to your CPAP and I’m not letting you die in the middle of night just ‘cause you’re too nice.”

He glances at the bed. He didn’t think Karkat would _want_ him to sleep there. He doesn’t know if it would be smart. In fact, it seems pretty dangerous, for Dave at least. What if he wakes up spewing petals all over Karkat? On the other hand, when is he ever going to get this chance again?

“It’s a pretty small bed,” he says hesitantly. “Are you sure? I’m fine on the floor. I can sleep basically anywhere.”

\---

"I won't be able to sleep at all if I know you're lying on the fucking floor," Karkat says. "And I don't fucking mind, just try not to kick me in your sleep, I guess."

He crosses his arms, not sure why he's feeling so flustered. Dave still looks hesitant and Karkat groans, bending down to slide one arm under Dave's knees and another behind his back. He grunts and picks Dave up somewhat awkwardly, then dumps him onto the bed.

"There, problem solved," he says, a little out of breath.

He climbs in after Dave, pulling the covers up over them both, and turns off his bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

\---

Dave still isn’t entirely convinced, but the choice is made for him when Karkat scoops him up like he’s nothing.

“Wha--Dude, wait, don’t--” he stutters, face flaring. Karkat drops him onto the bed and Dave bounces slightly, his heart pounding in his ears, completely speechless and desperately trying not to pop a boner. Karkat gets in after him and Dave scoots back against the wall, and then they’re lying in the dark, barely an inch of space between them, which definitely isn’t helping with the boner situation.

Dave clears his throat but his voice is still embarrassingly high pitched when he tugs his shades off and says, “Could you put these on the table?”

\---

Karkat hears the clacking sound of Dave folding up his shades and feels around in the dark until he finds them. He sets them gently on the table and rolls over onto his side, looking at Dave. As Karkat's eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, the moonlight from outside his window lights up Dave's pale features and he can see a glint of the red in Dave's eyes. He thinks, not for the first time, that the color is strikingly beautiful.

His eyebrows furrow and he rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "So I was promised a genuine sleepover experience tonight. What do you got for me, manicure boy? Hit me with your best sleepover gossip."

\---

The world is dark and blurry. Dave can barely see the fuzzy form in front of him and he hopes it’s dark enough that Karkat can’t see his gross eyes.

He laughs at Karkat’s choice of words, tension draining from him slightly. This doesn’t have to be weird. They’re just friends sharing a bed because there’s nowhere else to sleep. Dave’s feelings don’t have to get in the way of this.

“I don’t have much gossip to share either,” he says. “I mostly just hang out with you and John. Unless you wanna hear about the shit my brothers get up to. Also I’m pretty sure my history professor is boning at least three of the girls in my class. Does that count?”

\---

Karkat laughs, settling in to get comfortable. "That's a pretty decent gossip contribution, I guess. I don't have anything nearly as exciting to offer. I did finally learn who's been trimming his pubes in the bathroom sink without cleaning it up, and spoilers, it's the guy we all thought it was. One of the RA's caught him and the news got around so everyone fucking knows now. I guess that's more disgusting than scandalous, but whatever. College students are nasty as fuck."

He drums his fingers on his stomach, thinking.

"What else do people even talk about during sleepovers? Their love lives? We're both pretty pathetic on that front right now. No offense," he says.

\---

In the dark, Dave isn’t worried about Karkat seeing the way his face scrunches up in disgust.

“That’s gross as shit, dude,” he says.

He hums, trying not to think about his own pathetic love life and how much worse it would be if Karkat knew just how right he is.

“None taken,” he says.

He wiggles around, getting comfy, and stares at Karkat’s form in the dark.

“Have you ever dated anyone?” he asks curiously.

The way Karkat talks, it sounds like no one’s ever been interested in him in his life, and Dave seriously doubts that. Maybe he just never noticed, which Dave also would have doubted if it weren’t for the fact that Karkat remains blessedly oblivious to Dave’s own feelings for him.

Or maybe he isn’t as oblivious as he seems. Maybe he just doesn’t want to turn Dave down and make shit awkward. He tries to push that thought as far down as he possibly can.

\---

"Ha, no, are you kidding?" Karkat laughs bitterly. "I'm not exactly the hottest guy on campus or anything, in case you hadn't noticed. I think I was actually even uglier back in high school, although I have to be honest, I've already started blocking a lot of those memories out, so it's hard to say for sure."

He frowns. "There was one girl who I thought maybe wanted to date me, once. She was always nice to me in class, and I thought I could see her staring at me sometimes, I guess? I don't know, obviously I was imagining it because she completely shot me down when I asked her out. Told me I wasn't her type. So I spent the rest of the year coughing up flowers for her and wishing I was a different person."

He laughs again, forced and sharp. "Sorry, this isn't supposed to be Karkat's therapy hour. Guess my shitty love life isn't really the fun light hearted topic I was going for. We can talk about something else if you'd rather not have my severe emotional baggage dropped on you all at once."

\---

Dave feels a rush of protectiveness for his friend. Whoever that girl was, she was clearly an idiot.

“Dude you’re not _ugly_ ,” he says, when it seems like Karkat’s wound himself down. He reaches out to push at Karkat’s shoulder, frowning. “You’re hella cute and you care so much about everything, all the time. You’re a _catch_ , bro, anyone would be lucky to date you.”

God, that feels way too fucking transparent. He wants to take the words back but he has a feeling Karkat needed to hear them.

“I’ve only dated one girl,” he admits. Maybe commiserating will make Karkat feel better. “She was only pretending to like me to get to D, though, so it didn’t last very long. It worked, too; D ended up fucking her, so good for her, I guess.”

That still kind of stings, but he tries to sound lighthearted about it, like he’s telling a hilarious joke. Virginity is a construct and doesn’t matter nearly as much for guys as it does for girls, for some reason, but Dave still wishes he hadn’t lost his to her.

\---

Karkat's face heats up and he's glad it's dark in here. Nobody's really complimented him like this before, and what the fuck, his heart is _racing_. Dave's probably only saying these things to make Karkat feel less pathetic--which is totally working, by the way--but even the fact that he'd go to the effort of lying to make Karkat feel better is just... really fucking nice.

Karkat listens to Dave's own unhappy love story, his frown deepening with every word. "What the fuck?! Who _does_ something like that? That's fucking despicable of her, holy shit. And _D_ , really?!"

Karkat takes a breath, knowing Dave doesn't like it when he talks too much shit about his bros, but shit, he's just lost so much respect for Dave's older brother.

"Well. It wasn't very chill of him to do that, is all I'll say," he says tightly.

He sighs. "I'll deny I ever said this, but sometimes romance is just such fucking bullshit. I'm sorry that happened to you, man."

\---

It feels… nice, having Karkat be mad on his behalf. Sometimes Dave thinks he exaggerated it in his head, or that he was just overly sensitive or something, that it wasn’t that bad. But having Karkat be so obviously angry about it is. It’s just. Nice.

“Thanks,” he says, smiling slightly, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Don’t think D’s a shit person or anything. I’m pretty sure he never even realized who she was. He was almost always fucked up back then. Way more than he is now.”

He shrugs. At the very least, they never talked about it. The twins don’t even know, as far as Dave is aware, and he’s going to keep it that way.

“It’s not a big deal. I mean I should’ve seen it coming,” he laughs quietly. “The only person who’s ever looked at my family and picked _me_ is John, and I’m pretty sure that’s just because I humored his weird Nic Cage obsession.”

It was always worse, somehow, when it was the people who just wanted to be friends with his brothers instead of him. Dave could at least explain away people wanting to get fucked or whatever as his bros being hotter than him.

\---

"What do you mean, John's the only one?" Karkat rolls over with a frown, needing to look at Dave. His stomach squirms with something akin to guilt, because, well, he _did_ first get to know Dave in order to get close to his brothers. At least that was the context of that very first conversation they had. But after that it's always just been about him and Dave. Karkat would rather stay single forever than be a shitty person who just uses his friends to get laid or whatever. Anyway, Karkat's friendship with Dave means more to him than any stupid crush, and he needs to make sure Dave knows it.

"Just cause I think your brothers are hot doesn't mean I'd ever choose them over you, okay? You're the one who's stuck by me this whole time, who's been the first and only best friend I've ever fucking had. I did want to date the twins at first and D's stupid hot, obviously, but I'm pretty much over it by now. I didn't even cough up any flowers today, can you believe that? Also, even if I _wasn't_ over it, you're still more important to me than any of them, I wouldn't ever pick them over you. I hoped that would be obvious," he grumbles.

His voice softens a little. "I'm sorry if that's something that's been bothering you, though, dude. I can understand being worried about it if it's happened so many times before."

His shoulders tense with anger as he thinks about everyone who's ever hurt Dave, who's made him feel like he's not worth as much as his brothers. It's not right, he thinks furiously. Dave is incredible, amazing, funny, talented, and kind; he deserves so much more than just being used like that.

\---

Dave’s throat feels unusually tight the longer Karkat talks. He’s glad it’s dark so Karkat can’t see how red his face is, how wide his eyes are. His stomach flips over itself and his chest aches.

“Oh,” he says dumbly.

Of course he didn’t think Karkat would drop him entirely if one of his brothers showed interest. He’s too nice for that, too good of a person. But if he had a shot of course he’d take it, and Dave would be pushed to the wayside and he wouldn’t even be able to be mad about it, because he knew what this was going into it. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

Karkat would really choose Dave over his brothers? Even though he likes them? Or… he doesn’t like them, anymore? That’s all too much for Dave to wrap his head around; like he woke up and everything in the world was moved an inch to the left. It doesn’t feel right. But Karkat’s still waiting for him to say something.

“Thanks,” he says. It’s lame as hell, considering what Karkat just said. “Um. Congrats on the flowers. That’s a pretty big deal. You seem like you’re doing better lately.”

\---

"Yeah, it's been a nice break from the usual constant lung torture, that's for sure," Karkat says. "I have no idea why my body's giving me a pain vacation right now, but I'm just gonna enjoy it instead of questioning it."

He cocks his eyebrows at Dave, even though he probably can't see them in the dark. "What about you, how's your whole flower situation been going?"

\---

Dave considers lying, but he’s tired of lying to Karkat about shit. Some things can’t be helped, but he can at least tell the truth about this.

“It’s getting worse,” he sighs. “I have another appointment with the specialist coming up soon. And with the nutritionist, but I don’t know if I’m gonna go to that one. I mean, I’m eating normally again so it should be fine.”

He shrugs, remembering the vast amount of petals he puked up in the bathroom. He’s not sure how quickly Hanahaki is supposed to progress but he has a bad feeling about it. It’s probably because he refuses to cut contact with Karkat.

\---

Karkat's stomach sinks. He wonders how bad Dave's symptoms really are, if it means he's actually willing to admit to Karkat that there's a problem.

"Shit. Well I'm glad you're seeing the specialist, but you should still go to the nutritionist, too," he says. "Don't fuck around with your health when you're already sick like this, man."

He hesitates, not wanting to grill Dave about this shit when he seems to be finally opening up about it. "Are you ever planning on telling the guy about your feelings?"

He bites off a barrage of opinions and reasons why Dave should just tell the guy; Dave's heard it all before. Karkat just feels so helpless and sad and frustrated, knowing Dave is just letting his body destroy itself and not trying to do a damn thing to stop it. Except for apparently working out way too much and refusing to eat, which Karkat seriously hopes he's finally done with.

\---

Dave sighs again. He doesn’t really want to see the nutritionist and hear about all the shit he undoubtedly did wrong when he’s already decided not to try again. But Karkat’s probably right, he should go.

“Nah,” he says, when Karkat asks if he’ll ever confess. “I told you, dude, he’s not into me. I’d just make it awkward as fuck when he has to turn me down. He’s way out of my league anyway.”

Karkat _is_ out of his league. It’s true, what he said earlier about Karkat being cute. He’s short and kind of chubby in the most adorable way. He’s got a grumpy pout that makes Dave want to lean in and tug at Karkat’s lower lip with his teeth. He’s smart and hilarious and kind and has really soft hair, which Dave found out when he ruffled it obnoxiously once.

Dave’s lucky Karkat is even his friend, and he’s determined to be okay with that.

\---

Karkat wants to shake Dave and yell at him because who gives a shit about it being _awkward_? This is Dave's health, his life on the line here, what could be more important than that? But he's said it all before and there's no point in continuing fighting about it when it's not going to change Dave's mind.

"I still don't think you're giving yourself enough credit," he says. "But I'll stop bitching about it for now, I've already given you enough shit today. Thanks for putting up with my neurotic concerns all the time."

He pats Dave's arm awkwardly and withdraws his hand back into the blankets.

A wave of exhaustion hits him suddenly, and he yawns loudly. "Fuck, is it super lame to actually fall asleep during a sleepover? Usually my insomnia would be kicking my ass until all hours of the night, but it fucking figures that the one time I'm actually _supposed_ to stay up, I can't even keep my eyes open."

It's true, his eyes are drooping shut as he talks, another yawn cutting him off at the end of his sentence.

\---

Dave doesn’t have to try to hide his sappy smile, since Karkat can’t see him.

“Go to sleep, dude,” he says. “It’s not like we can never have a sleepover again. And don’t forget to put your CPAP on.”

Karkat does so, and the sound of the machine is kind of distracting, but Dave isn’t super tired anyway. He spent the past three days asleep. So while Karkat drifts off to dreamland Dave stares into the darkness, trying not to think about all the stuff in his life he can’t change.

It doesn’t work. He thinks about his flowers, and how he’s going to keep getting worse, no matter what medicine they put him on to slow the spread. He imagines what he’ll look like with vines and roots growing under his skin, even though people usually have to have the surgery before it gets that far.

He probably has a couple of years before then, at least. He shouldn't worry about this now.

Dave closes his eyes and tries to sleep. He thinks he might be getting somewhere when he hears a whimper from the boy next to him, but he ignores it. People make weird sounds in their sleep sometimes.

But then Karkat starts moving, jerky little motions, and Dave frowns, opening his eyes. He can’t see shit, but he can hear Karkat whispering in his sleep, making sad, scared sounds. He’s obviously having a nightmare.

“Hey, Karkat,” he says quietly, reaching out to gently shake Karkat by the shoulder. “Wake up, it’s okay. It’s just a dream.”

\---

Karkat drifts off, sleep overtaking him easily and carelessly, the way it used to when he was a little kid. Back before he developed his Hanahaki and started spending every night tossing and turning, revisiting his mistakes and embarrassments from the day.

He finds himself dreaming of wandering through an abandoned warehouse, all his senses on edge. Someone's trying to find him and he knows he desperately doesn't want to be found. He can practically feel their breath on his neck, but every time he turns there's no one there. Panic builds up in his lungs and he walks down one hallway and another, then freezes at the sound of a frightened yell coming from behind a door at the end of the hallway.

The shout comes again, and Karkat realizes with terror that it's Dave's voice, calling out for help. The door slams open and reveals Dave tied to a chair, crying and holding a saw to his own leg. Karkat cries out and starts running toward him, but the room seems to only get farther and farther away as he runs. Dave can't hear him, he's alone and crying and hurt, and Karkat has to--

He wakes up, whimpering and trembling, to Dave's concerned face staring at him. He rips off his CPAP mask, taking in big shuddering breaths.

"Oh, fuck, thank god you're okay," he gasps. He grabs Dave around the waist and buries his face in his chest as a sob escapes his throat.

After a moment, self-consciousness catches up to his sleep-addled brain and he pulls away, wiping at his eyes, embarrassed. "Sorry, shit. Just a stupid nightmare."

\---

Dave freezes at Karkat’s reaction, his arm hovering uncertainly, but when Karkat pulls back he makes up his mind and awkwardly reaches out to pull him into a weird sort of hug. Karkat’s a touchy guy, he probably likes hugs, right?

“I’m fine, dude,” he says, trying to be reassuring. He’s not positive he’s doing well. “Right here wrapped up all cozy and warm.”

He’s not really sure what to do with his hand, now. He tries patting Karkat’s back but that feels weirdly condescending so he switches to rubbing instead.

“You had a bad dream about me?” he prods. If Karkat doesn’t want to talk about it that’s fine, but Dave is curious. What kind of dream would cause that reaction?

\---

Karkat snuffles into Dave's shirt-- _his_ shirt, he remembers--and lets himself be comforted by the feeling of Dave's arm around him, the hand rubbing his back. It feels oddly similar to the way Dave comforts him after a Hanahaki attack. Karkat isn't sure what to do with his arms, which are squashed between his and Dave's bodies. He ends up just wrapping one arm around Dave again, sighing as he presses closer into the embrace.

The details of the dream are already starting to slip away from his mind, but the fear is still coursing through him. He squeezes Dave tight.

"Mmmph. Was fucked up. Somebody kidnapped you I guess, was making you hurt yourself, like in Saw. Fuck that stupid movie, ugh, I'm never watching anything scary ever again," he moans.

His breath hitches. "Probably doesn't help that I've been worried about you too. Guess my brain just felt like creating the worst possible nightmare scenario I can imagine, to scare the shit out of me. Fun stuff." He tries to sound jokey, but he still feels shaky and sick to his stomach.

\---

Oh, fuck, is Karkat crying? Dave keeps rubbing Karkat’s back as he talks, feeling guilt wash over him.

“I’m fine, Karkat,” he says. “You don’t gotta worry about me anymore, alright? I’m okay.”

He’s been such an asshole lately. He knew he should have insisted they leave instead of sticking around to watch that dumb movie, but he didn’t want to get in the way of Karkat’s attempts to win over his crushes.

Except… Karkat said he was over that, so what gives?

“Why did you wanna stay and watch the movie, anyway?” Dave asks. “You hate horror. Do you always have nightmares after watching scary movies like that?”

\---

"I wasn't about to let my wimpy bullshit get in the way of your family getting to spend some quality time together," Karkat says. "Your brothers have pretty clearly been worried about you, Dave. I'm not _that_ much of an asshole. And you're _not_ okay. I'm glad you're eating better and shit but that doesn't change the fact that you have a really dangerous illness."

He takes a few deep breaths, feeling Dave's solid warmth against him. "I just don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

He sighs and closes his eyes. "I haven't watched a scary movie in fucking years, but yeah, I pretty much always have nightmares from them. My dreams kind of suck in general, but that one was," he shudders, "definitely worse than usual."

\---

Dave gives Karkat a squeeze, feeling his curly hair tickling under his chin.

“I _live_ with my brothers, Karkat,” he says. “I get to spend quality time with them constantly. Don’t put yourself through stuff you know you can’t handle for my sake.”

He doesn’t think his brothers are that worried about him, anyway. D maybe more than the twins, but they know Dave can take care of himself. Karkat is just reading into things that aren’t there.

“I’m taking this seriously, you know,” he says after a moment of silence. “I know I’m sick. All that stuff from before? That was me trying to deal with it. Trying to give--uh, him something to like about me. And I _know_ that’s stupid, okay, shut up. That’s not the point. The point is that I’m--I’m _trying_.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “It’s still really early, anyway, and who knows? My feelings might go away. It’s happened before. But for now I’m okay and you should try not to worry.”

\---

Karkat is pretty sure that Dave's usual 'quality family time' consists of getting kicked out of his room so D can get laid, or having the twins make fun of him and hit him in the face with a robot, but Dave is moving on before he can argue.

Karkat's face twists incredulously at Dave's confession. "You-- _that's_ why you were doing all that stupid diet and workout shit? To make this guy like you?" He shakes his head. "Dave, if he can't see how great you are without a set of bulging biceps, or whatever the fuck you were hoping to get, then he's a goddamn dumbass who's not worth your fucking time! You deserve someone who will love you for _you_ , not for your dickshitting muscle mass."

He buries his face farther into Dave's chest. "God, Dave, you're so--" He can't quite figure out what he wants to say, and elects for an annoyed growl instead of civilized human words. "Okay. Okay, everything you've just told me makes me even _more_ worried about your general ability to take care of yourself, but. I'm glad you're not just giving up, or whatever."

Whoever this guy is, there's no way he deserves Dave, Karkat thinks. He's unfairly fucking pissed at the guy for unintentionally making Dave feel like he's not good enough the way he is. Dave's fucking _perfect_.

\---

Dave isn’t sure if he wants to laugh or cry, hearing Karkat inadvertently shit talk himself. At least normally when it happens he’s _aware_ and doing it on purpose.

“I know, dude,” he says quietly. This hug is lasting way too long to just be a hug anymore. Dave’s pretty sure they passed the threshold to full blown cuddling awhile ago, and Karkat keeps rubbing his face against Dave’s chest and it’s so adorable it almost hurts. It _does_ hurt, actually. He can feel his lungs aching. “It was stupid. I’m sorry I was an asshole and made you worry.”

He wishes he could lean down and kiss the top of Karkat’s head, or nuzzle his face into his soft hair. All he does is continue stroking Karkat’s back, suddenly exhausted. It’s hard, being emotionally vulnerable.

\---

"It's ok," Karkat mumbles into Dave's chest, his eyes still closed. "Y're still my best friend, even if you're a stupid... dumb idiot."

Feeling comfortable and safe, sleep begins to drag him under once more. His annoyance at Dave's dumbassery seems to have chased away the last remnants of the nightmare from his mind. He remembers to slip his CPAP mask back on before he drifts off with Dave holding him close and warm.

The next time Karkat wakes up, the early morning light is pouring through his window and he feels more rested and refreshed than he's felt in forever. He pulls his CPAP mask off and smiles, feeling Dave's arm still wrapped around him. Dave is snoring lightly, his breath tickling Karkat's ear, and Karkat giggles, pulling back a little bit.

He looks fondly at Dave's sleeping face, his heart squeezing with affection. Dave's eyelashes are fluttering in his sleep, his skin is smooth and his lips look so soft and inviting, and... _fuck._

It hits him like a punch to the gut, like a tidal wave, horrible and inevitable and un-fucking-deniable.

He wants to kiss Dave. 

He wants to _date_ Dave.

He's... fuck, he's head over ass in love with his best friend.

Karkat shakes his head, mouthing the word "no," as he tries to back away, but Dave mumbles and pulls him tighter into his sleeping arms. Karkat's heart feels like it's pounding out of his chest, his face is hot and cold at the same time, his hands feel numb, his stomach is in knots. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to force the feelings back, but it's like trying to plug a leaky dam with his bare hands. With every second that passes, he realizes more and more how fucking futile it is, how deep he's in already. Has been for fuck knows how long.

He thinks with sinking horror on the past few weeks, how his flowers have been less and less frequent, how he's stopped thinking about Dave's brothers with anything more than a vague, passing attraction. How could he let this happen? He wants to cry and shout but Dave would wake up and he can't... he can't explain this, can't tell Dave about his awful, shitty feelings and let it ruin the best thing in his life.

A question breaks through the haze of panic: what about the flowers? Why hasn't he been coughing up petals for Dave, yet? It's true that not much is known about chronic Hanahaki, and Karkat's doctors told him they didn't know how it would react if he actually fell in love. Is that the reason? It's certainly not that Dave reciprocates his feelings, because Karkat knows all too well that he loves someone else, some stranger Karkat's never even fucking _met._

His eyes burn and he knows he has to get the fuck out of here, now. He squirms out from under Dave's arm as carefully as possible, then tiptoes out of his room and rushes to the bathroom. He slams the stall door behind him and leans against it, his face crumpling as his shoulders shake with silent tears.

He's not sure how much time passes, but eventually he manages to pull himself together, goes to the sink and splashes some water on his face. He still looks like shit, but he can make up some excuse for Dave. He walks back to his room, shoving his shaky hands in his pockets and wondering what the fuck he's going to do now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karkat has a horror-movie-inspired nightmare involving Dave being in danger. No on-scene gore or anything happens, just vague creepiness and threats.


	6. The One With The Lobster Ice Cream

Karkat falls back asleep, and Dave feels warm and content despite himself. He keeps saying that Dave is his best friend, and Dave doesn’t deserve it but he’s pretty sure Karkat is his best friend, too. He’s told Karkat shit that he’d never dream of telling John or his brothers.

He keeps rubbing Karkat’s back long after his friend has fallen asleep, but eventually sleep pulls him under, too. He dreams of familiar laughter, and arms around him, and wearing Karkat’s clothes around a house that’s dream-his but not his-his.

Dave wakes up to the morning light hitting his sensitive eyes. He immediately squeezes them shut, groaning, a lance of pain going directly to his head. He reaches out blindly for his shades, but his hand hits something hard and plastic instead, and he peeks his eyes open to reveal the blurry sight of Karkat’s CPAP machine.

Oh, right. Sleepover.

He fumbles around until he finally finds his shades and slips them on right as Karkat walks in the room. Dave gives a massive yawn and sits up, stretching.

“Mornin’,” he says sleepily. “Sleep okay? No more nightmares?”

\---

Karkat nods. "Yep, no more nightmares. Thanks for calming me down from that, you were like a fucking miracle drug."

He's relieved that his voice sounds mostly normal, aside from being a little rough, which he can easily blame on having just woken up.

He sits on the bed, suddenly all too aware of the way Dave's collarbones are peeking out from under his too-big sweater, and oh god, Dave's _wearing Karkat's clothes._

Karkat's heart flips over in his chest. He could fucking kill past Karkat for obliviously creating this stupid, overwhelming situation that present Karkat now has to deal with.

He looks away from Dave, hoping he wasn't staring too long. "Um, what about you? Did you sleep okay? I know the CPAP's kind of loud."

\---

Dave smiles, feeling stupidly pleased that he was able to help Karkat last night.

“I slept great, dude,” he says. “The machine didn’t bother me.”

It didn’t, once Dave was able to shut his brain off and get to sleep. He feels better rested than he has in months, though his chest is still aching.

“What time is it?” Dave asks, looking around for his phone before he remembers it’s still tucked away in the pockets of his jeans. “Well, whatever. You wanna go get some breakfast?”

He reaches up to mess with his hair, hoping it isn’t too fucked up. But Karkat isn’t laughing himself to tears so he must not look entirely ridiculous.

Going out to get food means changing, and Dave kind of wants to keep wearing Karkat’s sweater. But he said it’s his favorite, and Dave’s been enough of an asshole already. He’s not going to steal Karkat’s favorite sweater.

\---

Dave pats down his hair, getting rid of his adorable bedhead. Which is good, because Karkat's having a hard enough time looking at him anyway, he doesn't need Dave's adorable messy hair throwing him off even worse.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I need some fucking coffee," Karkat says, despite the way his heart is pounding like he's already had five cups.

He knows he told Dave yesterday not to steal his sweater, but now he really doesn't want Dave to give it back. It's stupid and selfish, but he likes the way Dave looks in his clothes. It makes him feel like they belong to each other somehow. Which is a fucking delusion and he needs to stop thinking like that and get Dave out of his clothes. Uh-- in a not-dirty way, of course. Fuck.

"I'm gonna change in here if you wanna go in the bathroom," he says, getting up to grab some clean clothes. He wishes he was the one wearing sunglasses for once, because right now he can't manage to look Dave in the eye.

\---

“Sure,” Dave says, standing up and scooping up his clothes from yesterday off the floor. Whatever, they probably smell fine.

Karkat is acting a bit weird but he’s probably just grumpy from being up so early. He’ll be back to his usual self--still grumpy, less weird--after he’s had some coffee.

Dave heads into the bathroom and takes a few minutes to spit up some flowers, holding his aching side as he does so. He’ll have to stop by his dorm room to take his medication, but at least he has his fancy inhaler on him.

He gets dressed, swishes some water around his mouth in lieu of a toothbrush, and fusses with his hair a bit longer before walking back to Karkat’s room.

“Ready?” he asks, dumping Karkat’s pajamas on his bed. He gives the sweater a longing look before turning to shoot Karkat a grin. He looks adorable, as usual, and Dave can’t resist reaching out to ruffle his curls.

He’s in a good mood today. Nothing has changed, really, but talking to Karkat last night has made him feel a lot better about things in general. Karkat is his best friend, he doesn’t have crushes on Dave’s brothers anymore, and even if he did Karkat wouldn’t ditch him when the time came. It’s nice, knowing all that.

\---

Dave grins and Karkat's heart thumps pathetically. Then to make it even worse, Dave ruffles his fucking hair. Karkat yelps in surprise, feigning annoyance to cover up how flustered he is.

"What the fuck, Dave," he grumbles. "My hair doesn't look bad enough on its own, and you just had to help it along, huh?"

He steps into the hall, trying to fix his hair before Dave can get a good view of how dumb he looks. They walk to the cafeteria, stopping by Dave's dorm first so he can grab his meds. Karkat makes a beeline for the coffee and grabs a muffin, then waits for Dave so they can find a seat together.

\---

Dave laughs, ignoring the way his side twinges as he does so, and says, “Your hair is fine, dude. It looks good.”

Dave takes his meds like a functional person and brushes his teeth, before they go get breakfast, even though he thinks the idea of brushing your teeth before you eat is kind of stupid.

Karkat goes to get his coffee and Dave gets a bagel piled high with cream cheese and adds some slices of bacon to his place before wandering back to Karkat so they can sit down. Karkat stares intently down at his muffin as he eats it, avoiding Dave’s gaze, and Dave frowns.

“Are you okay?” he asks. He didn’t do anything to piss Karkat off, did he?

\---

"What? Yeah, I'm fine," Karkat says. He knows he's being weird as fuck but he can't stop himself. He takes a sip of coffee, hoping it will give him the strength to act normal for five fucking minutes.

"How are _you_ doing?" he asks, trying to deflect. "You planning on going back to class today or will I have to drag your ass out of bed again tomorrow?"

\---

Karkat says he’s fine but he’s still avoiding looking at Dave. Dave tugs a tight smile onto his face.

“I’ll go to class,” he says. “No dragging necessary.”

He takes a bite of his bagel and thinks while he chews, eyes exploring Karkat’s face. He doesn’t _seem_ pissed.

“Thanks, by the way,” he says. “For uh, looking out for me and coming to make sure I was okay.”

\---

Karkat forces himself to finally look Dave in the face. He's not sure if it's better or worse that Dave's wearing his shades. He can't make proper eye contact, but he also can't read Dave's emotions as easily this way.

"You don't have to thank me for that," he says. "I'll always look out for you."

Then he winces internally because jesus, could he be any more obvious?

Feeling horribly awkward and uncomfortable, he looks back down at the half-eaten muffin. "Anyway, I should be the one thanking you for dealing with all my scaredy-cat bullshit yesterday. Sorry about waking you up in the middle of the night, that was pretty fucking lame, hah."

His chest burns with a mixture of humiliation and affection as he remembers how he completely lost his shit but also how Dave comforted him so well. He shoves the rest of the muffin in his mouth and swallows it down with hot coffee, then looks back up at Dave, who's still giving him a weird look.

"I should probably go," he says hesitantly, both wanting and not wanting to leave. "I've got class in like an hour and I still haven't showered, plus I've got a paper I need to finish by tonight, so."

It's all true, but somehow it feels like he's lying. He swigs the rest of his coffee, not caring about the way it burns his throat on the way down, and stands up.

"Thanks for staying over, though. It was fun, we should do it again," he says softly, looking back at Dave with a half-smile. His heart flutters as he notices a bagel crumb on Dave's cheek and he reaches out to brush it away without thinking.

\---

Dave has a feeling he’s doing something wrong, here. Everything Karkat’s saying is fine but his words don’t match up with his morose expression.

“You had a nightmare,” he says. “It’s not like you did it on purpose. Besides, I wasn’t even asleep.”

He tries not to droop too visibly when Karkat says he has to leave. He just spent a shit ton of time with him but he doesn’t want it to end just yet. Karkat’s little smile has his heart pounding, and Karkat’s big brown eyes are soft as he looks at Dave and reaches out to touch Dave’s cheek, so light it’s barely there.

Dave swallows harshly as Karkat withdraws his hand. He just had something on his face and Karkat was getting it off. It doesn’t mean anything. Dave can’t read into Karkat’s every action and get his hopes up. He already knows Karkat isn’t interested in him as anything more than a friend.

“Thanks,” he says weakly. “We, uh. Yeah, we should do it again. Have a good class.”

\---

Another sleepover? Karkat's heart leaps and sinks in the same moment as he pictures Dave in his bed, sleepy and soft just like this morning. He's pretty sure it'll actually kill him to share a bed with Dave now that he's realized his stupid shitty obvious feelings, but at least Dave doesn't seem to have figured it out. Maybe he can do this. If he just doesn't let Dave know how he feels, maybe they can just be friends and Karkat can live with knowing the boy he loves is in love with someone else.

God, he's so fucked.

"Yeah, for sure, let's do it again soon," he says, attempting at a smile that comes out more like a grimace. "See you later, Dave." Then he leaves before he can make an even bigger ass of himself.

He doesn't even remember walking back to his room, but suddenly he's standing in front of his door. He sighs and steps inside, shutting and locking the door behind him, then throws himself onto his bed. He takes a deep breath. It smells like Dave.

Karkat groans and rolls over, refusing to act like a fucking creep about this and sniff his own goddamn sheets to wallow in Dave's scent. He allows himself thirty seconds of unabated self-loathing and despair before he forces himself to get up and start his day.

He resolves not to act weird around Dave, and for the most part he thinks he succeeds. Still, there are a few moments over the next several days when he catches Dave staring at him and awkwardly looking away as soon as Karkat meets his eye. Dave doesn't say anything, though, so after a few days Karkat starts to breathe easier again.

Two weeks pass. Karkat's lungs remain empty of petals, something he’s always wished would happen except that of course, he can't fucking enjoy it because his heart is aching enough to rival the pain of a coughing attack.

Every time Dave says or does something nice to Karkat (which happens _all the fucking time_ because Dave is an amazing, sweet, caring person who Karkat absolutely does not deserve) his throat closes up and he has to remind himself to keep breathing properly. He averts his gaze when Dave changes clothes in front of him and burns up inside as they sit close together to watch a movie.

Every time he sees Dave cough up petals, his stomach sinks and he patiently rubs Dave's back through the attacks. He offers him cough drops and tea, not sure how he feels about this strange role reversal. Karkat's never been great at the whole comforting thing, but he tries to imitate what Dave would do, and it seems to at least make Dave a little happier. Dave's coughing becomes more and more frequent, and seemingly more painful as well, and Karkat starts offering Dave his hand to hold during the worst attacks. His heart practically beats out his chest every time, even though it feels like his fingers are about to snap off from how hard Dave is squeezing them.

He wishes he could talk to someone about this, his feelings for Dave and the fact that Dave loves someone else and the way it's fucking killing him inside. His parents can tell something's off on their usual video call, but he waves it off and distracts them with the happy news that he hasn't coughed up a petal for the past three weeks. His dad tears up and his mom gives him a bright, beaming smile, which he halfheartedly returns.

Today, like almost every other day, he and Dave have plans to hang out. Karkat heads over to the student union building after class, scanning the crowded lobby and craning his neck to look for his friend. He spots the back of a white-blonde head of hair and elbows his way past a group of laughing students, crossing the room to Dave, a smile forming on his face.

\---

Karkat keeps acting weird. For a few days Dave is terrified that he’s figured it out, but he doesn’t say anything, and things slowly return to normal. Or, kind of normal.

Dave eats junk food and stops exercising and spends almost all his free time with Karkat and, occasionally, John, who is still blissfully unaware of Dave’s condition. His attacks get worse while Karkat’s disappears altogether, and suddenly Karkat is rubbing his back and passing him cough drops instead of the other way around.

It’s bittersweet. Dave does his absolute best to pretend his feelings aren’t there, but they’re hard to ignore when Karkat’s being so fucking _nice_ to him. They don’t have another sleepover but Karkat does let Dave rest on his shoulder when they watch movies, though he doesn’t ever throw his arm around Dave again. That shouldn’t hurt so much.

Dave goes to the nutritionist, at Karkat’s urging. He learns a bunch of shit he probably should have already known. The nutritionist isn’t surprised that he lost a bunch of weight when he changed up his diet; she even says that he should be eating _more_ than he is now, even with all the shitty food he consumes, because his metabolism is so high.

He walks out with another appointment planned in a month, where the nutritionist will actually walk him through what he should be eating instead of talking about how many calories are in a gram of fat and what a serving size of rice looks like.

But that’s later. For now he’s waiting around for Karkat after his appointment so they can walk around and enjoy the last semi-warm day of the season. Dave is bundled up, as usual, and he catches sight of Karkat approaching him and grins, raising his arm to wave, when a hand drops onto his shoulder from behind and he jumps a foot in the air, spinning around.

“ _Bro_?” he says, eyes wide, as he stares at his eldest brother. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d drop by for a visit, see how my baby brothers are doin’,” Bro drawls. Dave can’t see his eyes but he feels the critical stare sweeping him up and down. “D said you’d be here.”

Of course he did, the traitor.

“That your new bestie?” Bro asks, nodding his head over Dave’s shoulder. Dave freezes.

Oh, fuck. Karkat. Karkat can’t meet Bro. His flowers over D and the twins may have dried up, but Dave has no doubt he’ll be spewing petals over Bro in seconds flat, and Dave honestly can’t handle that right now.

\---

Karkat sees Dave grin and wave, and then a man appears behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder. Karkat's too far away to hear what he says, but he can tell Dave's gone still and stoic like he does sometimes when he's upset. Who the fuck is bothering him?

As Karkat approaches them, he gets a better look at the person talking to Dave. Whoever he is, he's wearing shades just like Dirk and Hal's, but he's at least as tall as D, maybe even a few inches taller. Karkat realizes this must be Dave's oldest brother, the creepy one who likes puppets or something. Well now he understands why Dave looks so uncomfortable.

"Hey," he greets Dave, turning to Bro with narrowed eyes. "I assume I already know who you are, but we might as well pretend for five seconds that we're not a bunch of crass, armpit scratching hooligans who don't belong in polite society and complete this social interaction the normal way."

He receives two identical blank, shades-covered looks and rolls his eyes.

"Just introduce me to your Bro, assmunch," he says to Dave.

\---

God dammit. Dave didn’t react in time and now Karkat is here, and he’s totally going to get a crush on Bro. Dave keeps his face carefully blank as Karkat speaks; being around Bro always has him pulling on his poker face more often than with his other brothers because he’s so damn inscrutable.

“Right,” Dave says neutrally. “Bro, this is my friend Karkat. Karkat, this is my oldest brother, Bro.”

Bro nods coolly at Karkat and Dave makes a concentrated effort not to shift his weight awkwardly. Bro’s face remains blank as ever but Dave can tell he’s judging Karkat and he’s not sure if his friend is measuring up to Bro’s whacked out standards.

“You here for something specific?” Dave asks. Bro turns his head to him.

“A dude can’t come check up on his family?” he says. “How’ve you been, lil’ man?”

Come check out who’s behind Dave’s Hanahaki, more like. He can trust his other brothers to keep their noses out of his business and let him handle shit, but with Bro he can never predict what he might do.

“I’m fine,” Dave says blandly. “College, y’know. All nighters, ragers, frat parties. All that good shit.”

Dave glances at Karkat out of the corner of his eye. He seems fine, but it can take awhile for the flowers to start up. Doesn’t really matter how long the interaction is, either. Karkat can talk to people for thirty seconds and be coughing up bouquets for weeks afterwards. People who aren’t Dave, anyway.

\---

What the fuck is Dave talking about, ragers and frat parties? The closest thing they've ever done was sneaking a couple beers from D's minifridge and getting tipsy while watching romcoms together. Dave probably doesn't want Bro to know that, though, so Karkat wisely keeps his mouth shut for once.

Dave seems incredibly uncomfortable, and Karkat wonders whether he should give Dave some time alone with his brother.

"If you guys want to have some family bonding time, I can leave you to it," he offers. "I get to see Dave's dumb face every single day so it's no big deal."

\---

Dave says, “Nah, dude, Bro was just heading out,” at the same time Bro says, “Stick around, kid.”

They turn to stare at each other. Dave has no hope in beating Bro’s poker face but he still gives it a shot.

“C’mon, lil’ man,” Bro says, and there’s an edge to his voice. “Let’s go pick up the others an’ have a nice big family outing. Your bud can come along.”

God, that sounds like the fucking worst. Being surrounded by his brothers who all know Karkat doesn’t love him back, all of whom Karkat’s had or has a crush on. Fucking baller.

But Dave knows it’s fucking pointless, arguing with Bro, so he folds like a house of cards.

“Okay,” he says. He glances at Karkat. “You good with this?”

\---

"Whatever you want," Karkat says. He's no stranger to awkward family events, considering his entire extended family is a bunch of dysfunctional maniacs. And anyway, he's more than used to the Striders' particular brand of weirdness.

Dave looks vaguely ill but Bro nods in a satisfied way and starts walking ahead of them, letting Dave and Karkat follow behind. People seem to step aside for Bro automatically, and before long they're walking out of the crowded building, into the crisp autumn air outside.

Bro falls back into step beside Dave, and they walk in silence for a few moments.

"So, Karkat, what're you majoring in?" Bro's tone is blank and his posture is casual, but something about him is putting Karkat right the fuck on edge.

"Uh, English Literature," Karkat says. "Not the most exciting choice, I guess, but it's what I'm interested in." He shrugs, feeling somewhat defensive.

Bro doesn't show any reaction to his answer, and Karkat holds back an exasperated eye roll. Fucking inscrutable Striders.

He raises an eyebrow instead and asks, "What about you, did you go to college here too? And your brother before you, and his brother before him? How many of you even are there, seriously, does the Strider older brother pile ever stop from getting bigger?"

This earns him a huff of amusement from Dave, but Bro just shakes his head. "Naw, never went to college. They don't teach anything here that'd be useful for my work, 'less they've added a Puppeteering major since I last checked."

Karkat grimaces. "Not that I'm aware of."

The rest of the walk is spent with Bro grilling him on various topics, ranging from asking what his parents do, to quizzing him about the university football team's recent performance. Karkat, of course, has never been to a single football game, but Bro won't let the topic drop, and Karkat gets the weird feeling that it might be some kind of performative paternal bullshit Bro's acting out. Whatever it is, it's fucking annoying as shit.

\---

Dave stays quiet as Bro interrogates Karkat, who does a pretty decent job of answering his questions, though Dave can tell he’s getting frustrated. Dave is frustrated as well. He can only hope that Bro tires of the ironic overprotective guardian schtick soon. There’s no point in telling him to knock it off; Bro does what he wants.

After the fifth question about football, though, Dave groans.

“Dude, neither of us know shit about football,” he says. “ _You_ don’t know shit about football.”

Bro raises an eyebrow at his outburst and Dave pulls back on his cool guy facade. He’s been away from home for too long. His other brothers are way more lax than Bro when it comes to Dave slipping up and not wearing his poker face, and Karkat’s the most expressive person Dave’s ever met.

They reach the dorm, but when they walk into the room Hal is the only one there, chilling on the sofa.

“Dirk,” Bro greets. Hal nods. Bro is the only one the twins will answer to when he calls them by their first names. “Where’s your other half?”

“Out getting parts,” Hal says. “D went to the pool.”

Well, Strider family bonding time is going to be a lot more tame with 2/5ths of the members missing. Bro tells Hal to tag along and Hal nods again, standing up.

\---

Bro calls Hal "Dirk," which is weird, because even though they're identical they don't look 100% alike. Hal has a distinctive scar on his face that Dirk is missing. But nobody else seems to think it's strange, so, what the fuck ever. Not Karkat's problem.

He's not sure if it's a good or a bad thing that it's only going to be the four of them going on this little adventure. On one hand, there's probably a lower likelihood of chaotic shenanigans occurring this way, but it also means it'll be easier for Bro to keep focusing his weird creepy dad energy onto Karkat the entire time. Ugh, whatever, he can deal with it. It's honestly nothing compared to the bullying he dealt with in middle and high school, and he's pretty sure Bro won't actually try to stab him with a sword or anything.

Bro leads them back outside to a parking lot, where a beat-up orange pickup truck is waiting. Dave climbs into the back seat and Karkat follows him, while Hal takes shotgun. Bro starts the car and the My Little Pony theme plays through a single, tinny speaker in the dashboard.

After they've been driving for several minutes and it still seems like nobody's going to tell him anything, Karkat finally speaks up. "Where the fuck are we going?"

\---

Dave sits in tense silence while Bro starts to drive and tries to appear unaffected as he waits for his brother to start up another round of interrogation. He doesn’t. He lets them sit and stew until Karkat breaks the silence.

“Out for ice cream,” Bro says simply.

Dave _knows_ Bro saw the ice cream shop on the first floor of their dorm. He’s doing this with the express purpose of being an asshole and nosing into Dave’s business.

“Dude,” Dave says, unimpressed. Hal chuckles from up front.

Bro drives for a surprisingly long time considering they’re just going out for ice cream. When his ironically shitty pickup truck slows to a stop and they all climb out, Dave is surprised to see some bougie artisanal ice cream shoppe in front of them. He bets _they_ have a scoop limit.

“Hope you’re payin’ for this,” Dave says. Bro cuffs him upside the head as he overtakes him, leading the way inside.

“Don’t worry, lil man,” Bro says. “I’m covering you and your new bffsie.”

“Not me?” Hal deadpans. “I’m wounded.”

\---

Karkat follows after the Striders into the most gentrified, overpriced looking ice cream place he's ever fucking seen. What are they doing here? Why is any of this happening? And exactly how quickly can a nineteen-year-old develop stress ulcers? Karkat is sure he's about to find out soon enough, but he doubts he'll like the answers.

He looks over the list of flavors: Cardamom Swirl, Honey Lime with Vegan Ricotta, Carrot Habanero Pepper... What the fuck happened to plain old chocolate and vanilla??

"These flavors all sound completely vomitworthy," he says, earning a dirty look from a couple sitting nearby. He looks at Dave dubiously. "What are you gonna get?"

\---

Karkat looks doubtfully at the menu and Dave can’t blame him. A part-time hobby of his is loading up on the most ridiculous ice cream combinations he can think of and these sound pretty awful even to him.

“Shit, dude, I dunno,” he says. “What the fuck is a marionberry?”

“Make your choices,” Bro says. “I ain’t got all day.”

If Dave were any braver and didn’t know how it would do fuck all, he’d snap _you’re the one who brought us here, dick_. Maybe Karkat is rubbing off on him. In the idiom way not the--Nevermind.

“I’ll get the Venezuelan spiced chocolate, I guess,” Dave says uncertainly. There’s not many ways a person can fuck up chocolate. He has no idea what about it makes it Venezuelan.

\---

"Fine, I'll have the... Vietnamese Coffee with Frosted Almonds," Karkat says. It's got coffee in the name, at least.

Hal orders the Pineapple Cilantro sorbet, and Bro gets a scoop of the fucking lobster flavored ice cream. Disgusting.

Karkat and Dave take their little glass dishes (because of course this place doesn't have cones, why would an ice cream place have cones??) and find a table. Karkat doesn't even have time to question Dave about what the fuck they're doing here, before Bro and Hal are sitting down as well.

Karkat scrapes up a spoonful of ice cream and gives it a tentative lick. It's... fine, he guesses. It just tastes like fucking coffee ice cream.

He hears a loud cracking sound and looks across the table to see Bro picking apart an entire lobster claw that appears to have been jammed into his ice cream cup like some kind of fucked up garnish. He wants so badly to comment on that, but he's also pretty sure that's exactly what Bro wants him to do, so he bites back his lobster commentary and looks over to see how Dave is faring with his chili chocolate or whatever the fuck.

\---

They get their ice cream and sit down. Dave’s tastes weird. It’s definitely chocolate but there’s a bunch of other shit in there too and while it isn’t bad it’s also not good enough to justify the exorbitant price tag. Bro cracks into his lobster and though his attention is on that, Dave definitely feels the weight of his brother’s gaze on him as he tries a few bites of his ice cream.

Oh. Did D tell him about Dave eating weird? Is this Bro’s shitty ironic way of checking up on him? He could have just fucking _asked_ , but nothing is that straightforward with Bro. Some of the frustration Dave’s been feeling since Bro showed up trickles away.

“It’s good,” Dave lies. “Thanks, dude.”

Bro gives him a nod and for a second there’s something like a peaceful silence. Then Bro opens his mouth again.

“So, Karkat,” Bro says. “You got a girlfriend?”

Dave is going to kill him.

\---

Oh, fuck. Is _that_ what this is about? Of course Bro must know about Karkat's stupid embarrassing crushes on the twins and how he completely crashed and burned trying to ask them out. Did he bring Karkat out here just to make fun of him?

Karkat pointedly shoves another bite of ice cream in his mouth and swallows it down before answering. "Not that it's any of your fucking business, but no, I don't. Do _you_?" He meets Bro's shades, no longer attempting to hide exactly how fucking done he is with this whole situation.

Bro stares back at him for several moments, and Karkat refuses to squirm. He swears he can see Hal smirking out of the corner of his eye, the little shit.

The silence is broken by a loud cracking sound in Bro's hand, and Karkat flinches. That fucking lobster. Bro lifts a piece of the broken claw to his mouth and sucks loudly at it.

What the fuck.

"Okay! That's it!" Karkat says loudly. "Why the hell am I here? Why did you bring me of all people to this family bonding bullshit ice cream outing? Obviously you have some kind of issue with me, so just say what you want to say, and we can all be on our merry fucking way and get out of this circle of hell masquerading as an ice cream parlor!" By the end of his rant, he's standing up, red in the face, with every person in the room staring at him. Fuck his fucking life.

\---

Oh shit. Karkat totally just fucking snapped. Dave stares up at him with wide eyes, safely hidden behind his shades. He’s _never_ heard anyone talk to Bro like that before. He thinks he just fell even more in love.

Bro doesn’t flinch. Of course he doesn’t. He keeps sucking calmly at his stupid lobster, face unreadable. If Dave was brave like Karkat he’d take Bro aside and snap at him that it doesn’t _matter_ if Karkat has a girlfriend. It doesn’t matter if Karkat gets a thousand crushes or dates a thousand people; the only thing that matters is that Karkat doesn’t love him back.

“Sit down, kid,” Bro finally says, calm as ever. Hal leans forward and rests his chin on his hand, smirking.

Karkat does not sit down. Karkat, in fact, looks like he’s about to start swinging, and Dave’s already had a shitty day; he doesn’t want to see his best friend get a beatdown by his older brother.

“Thanks for the ice cream Bro,” Dave says suddenly, standing up. He grabs Karkat by the wrist and tugs him outside, away from all the staring eyes, and doesn’t stop until they’re a block away.

 _Fuck_. He’s so… Dave is fucking _pissed_. He’s so mad he’s trembling. Dave prides himself on being chill, on letting shit roll off his back like it’s nothing. God, how much has he lost that ability, being around Karkat? He can’t imagine how disappointed Bro must be in him.

But fuck Bro. What the fuck _was_ that?

“Are you okay dude?” Dave asks, turning to Karkat. He tries to take deep, even breaths and sound like shit like this happens all the time.

\---

Before he can do or say anything else, Dave is dragging him out of the store, walking them away from whatever the fuck just happened in there.

A block away, Dave stops and turns to him, and Karkat realizes his friend is shaking. His anger immediately deflates and he regrets blowing up. Shit, he really fucked up, didn't he. He fully expects Dave to start yelling at him for being such an asshole to his family members, but instead, Dave just asks if he's okay.

"Yeah, fuck, I'm fine. Just lost my goddamn shit like I always do," Karkat says, picking at his fingernail anxiously. He looks up at Dave. "Are _you_ okay? I'm sorry I couldn't keep my cool in there. Are you gonna be in trouble because of me?"

\---

Of course Karkat is worried about him after Bro spent who knows how long interrogating him and being generally off-putting. Dave manages to crack a smile.

“I’m good,” he says. His anger is quickly draining away, leaving him exhausted. And without the adrenaline dulling his senses, he’s suddenly aware that his side really fucking hurts, but he ignores it. Probably just a stitch from running or something. “I’m sorry, man. Bro is weird as shit but he doesn’t usually act like _that_. I don’t know what’s up with him.”

Dave knows exactly what’s up with him. Bro wanted to see what Karkat is about, find out if he meets his whack as shit standards. Dave has no idea what conclusions, if any, his brother drew. He doesn’t really care, either. He gave up on impressing Bro a long time ago.

\---

Dave offers him a smile and Karkat's heart throbs. Fuck, being in love with your best friend sucks so much. He wants so badly to reach over and hold Dave's hand, pull him close and hug and kiss him, but he can't, so he just shrugs.

"Who fucking knows. Hey, at least you got me out of there so I didn't have to finish that bowl of overpriced, under-flavored frozen swill." He makes a face.

"Well... what should we do now? I could probably figure out how to get us home on the bus, if you want to go back to campus," he offers. "Or we could wander around and see what other dumbass overpriced shit we can find around here to make fun of."

They're definitely in the right area for that, he thinks, noting several expensive looking boutiques across the street. He feels incredibly out of place here, but with Dave at his side it sort of feels like that doesn't matter.

\---

Karkat makes a hilariously adorable face at the mention of his ice cream, his nose wrinkling and lip curling in disgust. Dave wants to poke his cute little button nose and tug him in for a hug. Instead he shoves his hands in his pocket and looks away, out at the shops lining the street. They look hella expensive.

“Let’s fuck around in the stores,” Dave says. “Since we’re here. Might as well annoy some upper middle class white women while we’ve got the chance.”

He leads the way across the street, entering something called _Lush_ , which is not at all what he thinks it is. There are a lot of smells happening and they’re immediately greeted by a chipper worker asking if they need anything specific. Dave tells them they’re just browsing.

“Oh shit dude, look,” he says, pointing out what seems to be a bunch of tiny planets stacked on top of each other in a large pile. “What are these?”

\---

Karkat's mood improves immediately as Dave leads them right inside a Lush store. He can never really afford anything here, but he still loves to smell the soaps and try the lotion samples and shit. He's definitely maybe watched more than a few Lush unboxing videos on youtube before. He just likes bath shit, okay, fucking sue him!

"Those are bath bombs," he says, picking one up. God, he fucking misses baths. As soon as he can move out of the dorms, he's looking for a place with a bathtub.

He sniffs at the bath bomb, letting the peppermint fragrance fill his senses. No fucking lobster scented bullshit in here, thank you very much. He hands the glittery ball to Dave, who takes it, looking confused. "Just smell it, dude, it smells good," he says.

Has Dave never been to Lush before? He guesses that's not really surprising at all, considering how Dave's whole family seems totally steeped in their hyper-masculinity bullshit. He wonders if Dave's ever even had a bubble bath before. Then he immediately regrets thinking about that, as his mind provides an image of Dave, wet and naked and covered in soapy bubbles, and-- _no_. Not fucking happening.

\---

Dave accepts the sparkly little planet. He bets Jade would love the shit out of this place. He smells it like Karkat did and blinks, surprised. It _does_ smell good. It smells really good, actually. He glances at the price. Ten dollars for one little ball? Damn.

“You like this shit?” Dave asks Karkat curiously. He’s guessing you toss these things in the bath and they melt or something. They don’t have a bathtub at the dorm, unfortunately. He briefly wonders how weird it would be to rent an air bnb for a night for the sole purpose of using the bathtub. “Well we ain’t got a tub but it looks like they have lotions over there.”

He puts the bathbomb down and drifts over to the big sign that says _lotion_ on it in fancy writing. Dave didn’t know that lotion could come in like, shapes. He thought it was strictly a bottles-only kind of deal, but they have a bunch of weird little bars in various shapes and colors. He pokes a pink one and his finger comes back glittery.

\---

Karkat follows Dave as he wanders toward the lotions, watching with amused fondness as he pokes one of them.

"Honestly, I can't really afford to like this shit," Karkat says wistfully. "Maybe one day, though, when I'm rich and famous. Or, at the very least, when I'm no longer a college student with less than zero job prospects." He picks up the same bar Dave was poking, and sniffs at it. It smells fucking heavenly, of course.

Another salesman appears from out of nowhere, a perky smile on his face. "Would you two like to try a sample of that lotion? It's one of our seasonal specials so it's only available for another week."

Karkat typically avoids any prolonged encounters with sales people--especially the ones at Lush--because he has an annoying tendency to develop immediate crushes on them and then have to run out of the store coughing. He realizes, though, that since his Hanahaki symptoms are seemingly gone, there's really no reason not to let the sales guy butter him up. It's all he can afford, so he might as well enjoy it. He's interested to witness Dave getting the full Lush employee experience, too. Dave will either be hilariously annoyed or adorably delighted, and Karkat figures he'll have a good time either way.

"Sure, I'll try a sample," he says.

The salesman takes Karkat's hand and begins rubbing the lotion into his skin for him. Goddamn, it's actually a really nice hand massage, Karkat needs to do this shit more often. The salesman is chattering up a storm but Karkat is only half-listening, the majority of his attention focused on Dave.

\---

A salesperson appears before Dave can offer to buy Karkat something. Dave doesn’t have a job but Bro sends them all money every month, leftover from what their parents left behind. They’d probably be pinching pennies if his brothers didn’t all have scholarships. Dave’s the only one unexceptional enough to have to pay his own way. Or have Bro pay his way.

The salesperson gets all up close and personal with Karkat, sensually massaging his hand, and Dave feels a spike of jealousy as he watches, carefully making sure his pokerface is in place. Karkat is hella going to get a crush on this dude, isn’t he? His flowers have inexplicably stopped for a while, but there’s no way Karkat isn’t gonna fall epically in puppy love with some dude rubbing all over his hands.

When the guy turns to Dave, offering the same treatment, Dave says, “Nah, bro. Can’t blame you for wanting to get your hands all over me but I’m good.”

The dude laughs, tells them to ask if there’s anything they need, and wanders away. Dave wastes no time plucking a lotion bar from the display and grabbing Karkat’s incredibly soft hand, tugging him towards the checkout.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Dave says. “This place is giving me a headache.”

His head is fine. His lungs less so, but he probably still has time before he has to hack up a flower field. He just doesn’t want to have to sit through someone touching Karkat like that again.

He pays and leads the way outside, where he thrusts the little bag into Karkat’s hands.

“Here,” he says. “It’s for you.”

\---

Karkat nearly has a heart attack when Dave grabs him by the hand and pulls him toward the checkout. He's so distracted that he barely registers what Dave is buying, until they're outside and Dave's practically shoving the bag toward him.

"For me?" he says, confused. He opens it up and looks at the fancy lotion bar, neatly wrapped in its cute packaging. "Fuck, dude, you didn't have to... I mean, shit. What's this for, anyway? It's not my birthday or anything."

Maybe it's to make up for the way Bro was acting earlier, but that's not Dave's fucking fault.

A small part of Karkat is swooning over the fact that his crush just bought him an adorable, thoughtful gift, that Dave was actually _holding his hand_. He squashes it down relentlessly and tells it to shut the fuck up.

\---

Dave smiles at Karkat’s reaction, a hand coming up to rub at his neck awkwardly.

“It’s not for anything,” he says. “You said you don’t get to use this shit so. Now you can.”

It was pretty steep, for a little thing of lotion, but as long as it makes Karkat happy Dave doesn’t give a single solitary fuck. He wants to grab Karkat’s hand again and tug him along down the street but he settles for bumping their shoulders together and nodding his head at a shop across the street.

“C’mon, dude, let’s check that one out,” he says.

\---

Dave's smile is warm and bright and gorgeous. It absolutely irradiates every last one of Karkat's remaining functional brain cells, and he scrambles to find the right thing to say.

"Well... thanks," is all he can come up with. It's not enough, doesn't even begin to cover how touched he is at Dave's thoughtfulness.

Nobody's ever really just _bought_ him something like that before, on such a casual whim. His parents get him gifts for his birthday and Christmas, of course, but it's always something practical that will last Karkat a while, like a bike or a winter coat. Nothing spontaneous and frivolous like this. He feels completely spoiled, and also guilty because he still manages to wish Dave would hold his hand again. _Don't be fucking greedy_ , he tells himself. _He's not fucking interested in you like that, and even being friends with him is more than you deserve, anyway._

He follows Dave across the street and into another store, which turns out to be an Asian pastry shop. The smell of sugary treats makes his mouth water, and he moves toward the display case automatically. There are rows of tiny macaroons in a rainbow assortment of colors, strawberry cake rolls with swirls of pink icing, perfect golden buns, and several other pastries he doesn't recognize.

The girl behind the counter hands a customer a bubble tea, then turns to look at them. "Welcome, how can I help you?"

"Let me get you something," Karkat says, looking at Dave. He might not be able to shop at Lush but he can at least buy his friend a cookie or something. "Come on, what do you want?" Honestly, the pastries all look pretty fucking great after that disappointing ice cream, but Karkat isn't buying for himself.

\---

It smells fucking awesome in here. Fuck yes asian pastries. Dave grew up with a bunch of fucking weebs, this shit is his bread and butter.

And Karkat is offering to buy Dave something, probably because he feels bad about Dave getting him the lotion. He doesn’t have to do that, but Dave gives him a smile and turns to look over the various foods available.

“How about one of those,” Dave says, pointing to a large sweet bun. He knows from experience how delicious they are, despite looking just like bread. Karkat buys it and Dave wastes no time ripping it in half and handing Karkat a piece.

“Do you want boba?” he asks, shoving a piece in his mouth. It’s delightfully sweet, melting in his mouth, and Dave has all but forgotten having to watch someone feel up Karkat in the last store. “Have you ever had some? It’s fucking delicious.”

He probably shouldn’t be spending a lot of money; he’s a broke college student. But what the fuck ever, the money is Bro’s and Dave isn’t exactly happy with him right now. Besides, he’s out with Karkat, and his reaction to the lotion just makes Dave want to shower him with even more gifts. He bets no one’s ever really spoiled Karkat before. Dave doesn’t have the funds to do too much, but he’s definitely going to try.

\---

Karkat wants to protest when Dave tears off half the bun and gives it to him, but Dave looks so pleased to share it. And it does look pretty tasty...

He takes a bite and his eyes widen. "Holy shit, that's good. Also, I have no idea what the fuck a boba is, but you're not allowed to buy me anything else!! You already spent way too much on this, don't you dare make me even more indebted to your dumb ass." He shakes the Lush bag in Dave's face like a threat.

\---

Dave laughs, pushing the bag away from his face, fingers grazing Karkat’s wrist. His stomach flutters and his chest aches, but he ignores them both.

“Dude it was like fifteen bucks, don’t worry about it,” he says, but Karkat’s expression remains the same and Dave rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine. Since you’re so _indebted_ to me you can pay me back by letting me get you boba.”

He feels pretty fucking pleased with himself at that.

“Boba is the weeby way of saying bubble tea,” he adds with a shrug. “It’s milk tea with tapioca pearls at the bottom.”

\---

Karkat's cheeks warm at Dave's insistence on buying him the damn tea. He should really say no, but Dave is so fucking cute and Karkat is so, so gay. How can he possibly deny Dave anything he wants?

He realizes with a shock that he really would do pretty much anything for this dumbass, no matter how much of a terrible idea it was. Not that letting Dave spend money on him is a life or death situation or anything, but whatever, it's still kind of a terrifying fucking thing to realize. How in the fuck did Dave become so important to him in such a short amount of time?

His heart throbs and he curses himself yet again for being stupid enough to let this happen. What's even more pathetic is that he can't even bring himself to regret the decisions that brought him to this point, can't picture it going any other way than this. Because really, it was all over as soon as he met Dave, wasn't it? He just didn't know it, then.

Shit, how long has he been spacing out just now? He shakes his head, hoping Dave didn't notice. "Um. Okay, fuck you, fine, I'll try your 'boba.' Even though tapioca pearls sound more like something that belongs in a jewelry store, not in my fucking mouth."

\---

Karkat takes a long ass time with whatever internal debate he has going on, and Dave thinks maybe this will be the thing he puts his foot down about. It has to happen eventually, right? But Karkat snaps out of it and agrees to let Dave get him bubble tea and Dave beams a wde, happy grin at him.

“Hell yes, dude,” he says. “You’ll love it. C’mon, what flavor do you wanna try?”

Dave buys bubble tea for both of them, wasting no time in stabbing the plastic lid with the wide straw and sucking some down. He gets a few chewy tapioca pearls and hums, pleased. It’s been way too fucking long since he had bubble tea. When his brothers were still living at home it felt like they’d get some every week.

He turns his attention to Karkat, eagerly watching his reaction.

\---

Karkat picks the basic black tea and guiltily watches Dave pay for the drinks. He’s handed a cup and a straw, but the cup is totally sealed over with plastic. He’s about to start peeling it apart but then he looks up to see Dave stabbing his own straw right through the plastic lid of his cup like he’s killing a goddamn vampire or some shit. What the fuck kind of nonsense...?

Karkat imitates the action with his own straw, and is surprised when it doesn't just rip apart and spill tea everywhere. He narrows his eyes at the black blobs in the bottom of his drink. Must be those "pearls" Dave was talking about.

He takes a tentative sip and brightens as the flavor hits his tongue. Holy shit that's good. The creamy sweetness of the milk blends together with the sharp, earthy tea and the result is goddamn delicious.

He takes a bigger sip and gets a couple of pearls this time. He chews on them, and they stick to his teeth which is annoying, but they taste pretty good too. He goes in for another sip, and then another, before he notices Dave watching his reaction.

"Dude, this is fucking good," he says, his eyes widening. "How have I never had this shit before? I'm deeply fucking offended with the universe at large right now for depriving me of this for the entirety of my life."

He sips angrily to emphasize his point, and almost chokes on a pearl.

\---

Dave gets the unique experience of watching Karkat’s suspicion turn to delight as he tries his tea, his large brown eyes widening with surprise. He goes back for more and more and Dave feels warmth in his chest that he did something right. Fuck yes. Everyone loves boba.

He grins with delight at Karkat’s words, hiding it by taking another drink of his own tea.

“I don’t fuckin’ know, dude,” he says. “It’s a crying shame, though. You should’ve been sucking down boba at five years old like everyone else. Guess you have some time to make up for.”

Dave is fairly sure that normal five year olds don’t get bubble tea, but whatever. They’re missing out.

He snags Karkat’s wrist, pulling him towards the door, and says, “C’mon, man, let’s go look at more shops.”

Dave doesn’t have a _ton_ of money to drop, but with every new reaction he gets from Karkat he becomes more and more eager to buy him something else. If he keeps being so endearingly adorable about it, he’s going to be weighed down with bags by the time he and Dave head back to the dorm.

\---

Karkat's cheeks warm when Dave grabs his wrist and he helplessly lets himself be dragged back out to the sidewalk.

His mind catches up to what Dave said, and he frowns dubiously, eyeing the bubbles in his drink. "Wouldn't this shit pose some sort of choking hazard for a five year old with all the pearls in it? I swear every time you talk about your upbringing it seems more and more like a miracle that you even survived childhood."

Dave's still holding onto his wrist, and Karkat. Does not know what to do with that information. He decides to just pretend it's not happening, at least on the outside, while internally he's screaming as loud as he can. He sips at his drink to try and distract from the blush overtaking his face, and waits for Dave to decide where to go next.

As awful as the beginning of this afternoon was, he's actually having a fucking great time now. In fact, it's almost like he and Dave are on a--

Uh.

Actually, nope. He is just not gonna go there right now, because as long as he doesn't think about how unbelievably, deliriously romantic this whole fucking situation is, then maybe he'll be able to get through it without acting like a disgusting lovestruck idiot.

 _Dave doesn't love you. He loves somebody else, someone who maybe actually deserves him, unlike you, a literal piece of putrescent trash with zero redeemable qualities,_ he reminds himself. _Just try not to fuck this up like the gargantuan imbecile we both know you are, and maybe he won't ever find out about our shitty feelings and hate us forever._

\---

Dave laughs and carefully doesn’t wince at the pain the pulses through his side as he does so.

“It’s fine, dude,” he says. “D knows the heimlich maneuver. He made sure I didn’t choke to death.”

Karkat’s wrist is warm and soft in Dave’s hand, and instead of dropping it, Dave forges ahead, dragging Karkat across the street to the next shop so he’ll have an excuse to keep touching him. He determinedly ignores the pressure in his chest, a now familiar feeling that means he’s going to have to excuse himself to cough up petals soon enough.

This shop is selling hats, and Dave reluctantly releases Karkat’s wrist as they enter. He glances around, eyes lighting up, and spends the next fifteen minutes stacking as many hats on his head as he can until the shop owner notices and kicks them out. Karkat rolls his eyes at him but after the third hat he joins in as well, and they’re ushered from the store with laughter on their lips.

Karkat is adorable when he’s breathless from laughter, and Dave isn’t quick enough to stop himself from imagining what it would be like to lean in and kiss the grin from his face. He starts coughing hard. When he gets the chance he tells Karkat to wait there and dips into the thin space between buildings, hacking up a storm as petals fall to the floor.

His throat burns and his side aches and it feels like there’s a thousand pound weight on his chest, but as soon as this is over he can go back to having fun with Karkat. It makes the stinging of tears in his eyes worth it.

\---

Dave is being so dorky and cute and funny, and Karkat tries not to get swept away in enjoying himself too much. It's only a matter of time, though, before he's fighting off a smile at Dave's ridiculousness. His friend's silly mood is contagious and soon Karkat's laughing so hard he has to wipe tears from his eyes as they're kicked out of the store.

His laughter stops abruptly when Dave begins coughing hard, too hard to speak. He watches with concern as Dave ducks behind a building, and hesitates for only a moment before disregarding Dave's request for him to stay put.

He watches as Dave hunches over himself and chokes up a fuck ton of petals, his own chest tight with concern. He steps forward, not trying to hide the sound of his footsteps, and rubs Dave's back while he hacks and coughs. After a moment he offers Dave his hand to hold as well.

As much as it hurts that Dave's coughing up petals for someone else, he's still grateful that he gets to be here for Dave, to soothe him when he's hurting. Even though his meager efforts probably don't do jack shit to help, he's glad Dave isn't shutting him out anymore.

\---

Dave is a confusing mix of frustration and gratitude when he hears Karkat approach. He rubs Dave’s back and Dave tries to focus on the feeling of Karkat’s warmth through his shirt instead of the burn in his throat as he coughs so hard his legs shake.

Fuck, they were having such a good time, too. He knows Karkat is still low-key pissed at him for refusing to say who he’s in love with or confess to them, but hopefully this won’t bring up any resentment. Dave wants to go back to having fun with his best bro, no messy feelings or stupid diseases involved.

Well, at least he knows how Karkat felt all those times Dave sat with him, he thinks as he takes Karkat’s proffered hand. He clutches it like it’s a lifeline, eternally grateful for Karkat’s presence, despite the fact that it might be making it worse.

Finally, Dave spews all he has in him, and is left standing in a pile of red petals. Some of them are actual flowers now, and that scares him. But he puts on a brave face, standing up straight and shakily wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His other gives Karkat’s hand a squeeze before letting go.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Where do you wanna go next?”

\---

Karkat stares at the frankly alarming amount of petals Dave just hacked up. His stomach sinks with dread when he spots a couple of full-on flowers in the pile. Fuck, that means Dave's condition is getting worse. Karkat's never coughed up an actual flower before but he's done enough research on this disease to know that it's not a good sign.

"Shit, how long have you been coughing up flowers like that?" He hates himself for talking about this when Dave obviously wants to act like nothing's wrong, but he can't just pretend he didn't see anything. "Does your doctor know about it? When's your next appointment?"

He forces himself to look up from the incriminating flowers to meet Dave's eyes--or, shades, at least. God, this sucks so fucking much. Maybe he should insist they go home so Dave can rest, but Dave will probably just get upset if he suggests that, and he doesn't want to have another fucking fight about this.

\---

Dave shifts his weight awkwardly. It’s nice that Karkat gives a shit; it makes his heart pound and his cheeks feel warm, but he honestly doesn’t want to think about it. He’s resigned himself to this.

“Uh, since just now, I guess,” he says truthfully, his voice hoarse. He swallows and his throat burns, so he digs around in his bag with shaking fingers until he finds a water bottle and some cough drops. He takes a sip and it fucking hurts going down, but the cough drop helps at least.

“I have my appointment next week,” he says. “They’ll probably up my medication or something, I don’t know.”

They started him off on a pretty low dose, he thinks. Hopefully increasing it will kill off the full flowers, at least. And they’ll probably do another X-ray, too, so they can see how his lungs are fairing. From the permanent ache in his side, Dave is willing to bet it’s not going well.

\---

Karkat watches Dave take out his water and cough drops with shaking hands, wishing more than anything that he could do something to help. Instead he just stands there uselessly, not knowing what to do.

"Okay, fuck. That's... good. They'll be able to tell you what to do. Obviously, I mean, that's what doctors are for, right? It'll be okay." God, he needs to shut up before he starts rambling out of control like a certain someone he knows. "Do you need to go home and rest? I saw a bus stop a few blocks back that should take us back to campus. Or we can go find someplace to sit down and rest for a while, what do you think?"

He chews at his lip anxiously. Knowing Dave he'll probably try to act like he's feeling totally fine and insist they sign up for a marathon or something just to prove how healthy he is. Karkat's more than gathered that Dave does _not_ take well to even the slightest insinuation that he's weak or can't handle something. Which--obviously Karkat knows Dave's not weak, he respects the fuck out of him, but someone has to try and take care of this dumbass, don't they? And Karkat doesn't see anyone else lining up for the job.

Ah, who is he kidding... even if there were a thousand candidates vying to take care of Dave Strider they'd have to pry the 'Idiot-sitter' title out of Karkat's cold dead hands first.

\---

“What? No, dude, I’m totally fine,” Dave says, shoving his hands in his pockets so Karkat won’t see them shaking. He doesn’t want this to end just because he had a coughing fit. “I’m in peak physical condition, bro.”

Karkat gives him a doubtful look, crossing his arms. Karkat knows full well what one of these fits are like, and there’s no point in trying to fool him. Dave sighs, leaning against the brick wall of the alley, and tries not to look like he’s resting too much of his weight on it.

“Seriously, I don’t want to go home yet,” he says. “We’re having fun, right? Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be fine.”

Technically he’s not supposed to do anything but sit down and recover for at least thirty minutes after. But whatever, he’s not going to let some stupid disease control his life. He just needs to come up with something fun they can do that won’t require physical activity. Or like, standing up.

“Actually,” he says, pulling out his phone as he gets an idea. “One sec.”

A quick google search reveals a movie theater a few blocks away. Dave grins.

“You wanna watch some shitty old movies?” he asks, looking up at Karkat. “There’s a three dollar theater down the road.”

\---

Dave responds pretty much exactly how Karkat expected, which is fucking frustrating but also stupidly endearing. What a stubborn dumbfuck.

He's surprised, though, when Dave actually offers a good solution.

"A three dollar theater? Those things still exist? Sure, why the fuck not, I guess. Can't be any worse than standing in this smelly alleyway."

He gathers his courage and grabs Dave's hand, leading him back onto the sidewalk.

"Just so you don't fucking collapse on me," he grumbles by way of explanation, giving Dave's hand a quick squeeze and ignoring the way his stomach is tying itself in knots. "Alright, which way? Take me to this impossibly cheap theater that's definitely some kind of a front for drugs or human trafficking or some other shady crap. Seriously, there's no fucking way anyone could afford to rent in this neighborhood while offering prices that low."

\---

Karkat takes his hand and Dave’s stomach flips over itself. He imagines flowers blooming in his lungs all over again. His brain stutters, trying to make sense of the feeling of Karkat’s warm, soft skin against his own. Dave had grabbed Karkat’s wrist before, and sometimes they held hands when one of them was coughing up petals, but this… this is different.

 _It doesn’t mean anything_ , he tells himself. It doesn’t mean Karkat likes him back; if he did Dave would know it. It would be hard to miss Karkat coughing up flowers over him.

“I may have underexaggerated how far it is,” Dave admits, walking them out of the alleyway. It feels like all the blood in his body currently resides in his face. “By ‘a few blocks’ I actually mean ‘several’, but it’s still in walking distance. C’mon.”

Using his phone to navigate, Dave leads them to the theater. His palm feels sweaty but he’s spear himself through with his brother’s sword before releasing Karkat’s hand a moment before he absolutely has to. He wonders if people think they’re a couple when they glance at them and hates the way he desperately wants them to.

Karkat keeps slowing them down, walking at a snail’s pace, and it’s only after the second time Dave has to consciously shorten his strides that he realizes it’s for his sake, because he’s breathing kind of hard and feeling woozy after that attack. He gives Karkat a smile and gathers his courage to squeeze his hand.

-

Karkat feels almost giddy when Dave doesn't pull away from his grip, and they walk down the street together holding hands. _Holding hands!!_ Even knowing it doesn't mean anything to Dave doesn't put a damper on the moment, and Karkat already knows he's going to treasure the fuck out of this memory for the rest of his pathetic life.

Dave admits the theater is a little farther away than he initially stated, and Karkat groans. "Fine, but I swear to god if you pass out I'm carrying you all the way home, I don't care how many embarrassing looks we get on the bus. And tell me if you need to take a break, for fucks sake, it's not like we're in any hurry to be somewhere."

Holding hands turns out to have been a practical idea, too, because it lets Karkat ensure Dave doesn't walk too fast or push himself too hard, which he seems insistent on doing. Dave doesn't seem annoyed at Karkat for slowing him down, though. He actually smiles and squeezes Karkat's hand, and Karkat feels like his heart is about to explode with emotion.

Finally, just when Karkat's about to insist it's too far and that they should just go home, Dave points up ahead and sure enough, there's the theater.

They stop in front of the ticket booth and the sign says they're playing two movies today, Breakfast at Tiffany's and West Side Story. Karkat's seen both of them before, obviously, they're fucking classic romance movies, so he tells Dave to choose.

\---

Dave hasn’t seen either of the movies that are playing, so he chooses West Side Story because he doesn’t want to watch some girls eating breakfast or whatever. He pays, even though it’s super cheap, ignoring Karkat’s protests and smiling awkwardly as the girl behind the counter giggles at them.

He gets them food, too. Some little pretzel bites with cheese to dip them in, a bucket of popcorn, and some soda. The empty bubble tea containers go in the trash and by the time they’re sitting in the dark theater, Dave feels exhausted. He shoves a pretzel bite in his mouth and tries not to yawn as the previews play.

They’re still holding hands. Dave expected Karkat to let go the moment they got to the theater, but now they’re sitting here and holding hands and about to watch a movie and this feels so much like a date it makes Dave’s chest tight. But it’s not a date, because Karkat doesn’t like him, and they’re just holding hands because Karkat got spooked about Dave coughing up entire flowers now. It’s a supportive friend thing. Because they’re friends, and Dave isn’t going to ruin that.

\---

Dave insists on paying for fucking everything, which Karkat tries to protest, but he gives in because he doesn't want to get Dave all worked up when he's already clearly sick and exhausted. They sit down with their food and Dave still doesn't let go of his sweaty hand. Is he going to hold Karkat's hand the whole movie?! Karkat thinks he might actually fucking die if that happens.

To distract himself from his imminent demise, he stuffs his face with a few handfuls of popcorn. The small theater is mostly empty, aside from a homeless looking dude asleep in the front row and an elderly couple near the back.

The movie starts up without much fanfare. It's slow and quiet, like a lot of old movies, and Karkat can't help noticing Dave stifling a few yawns during the intro. It gives him an idea, except... what if it's too weird? They’ve cuddled during movies before, in Karkat’s room, but for some reason this time feels different. Is it because they're holding hands? Or just because they're in public?

Dave covers his mouth with yet another yawn, and Karkat decides, fuck it.

He gently lets go of Dave's hand and pushes up the armrest between them, shoving it out of the way. Then he wraps his arm around Dave and pulls him in closer, letting him lean on his chest. His heart is still pounding and he hopes Dave won't take notice.

\---

Dave is preparing himself to shut off his mind for this undoubtedly boring as shit movie, but he’s distracted when Karkat lets go of his hand. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but Dave feels his heart plummet and tries not to show on his face how much it stings. He turns to Karkat, prepared to make a smart ass remark, but the words disappear on his tongue when he’s pulled against Karkat’s chest, a warm, grounding arm wrapping around his shoulder.

Dave’s heart pounds loudly in his ears. They’ve done this in Karkat’s dorm when they watch movies; it shouldn’t be a big deal. And the theater is nearly empty anyways. Slowly, Dave lets himself relax into Karkat’s soft, comfy body. He must have noticed how incredibly exhausted Dave is.

“Thanks, dude,” he says quietly, shifting so he’s more comfortable. He doesn’t even bother pretending to watch the movie, instead closing his eyes and wondering how something amazing can hurt so much.

\---

Karkat doesn't trust his voice to sound normal right now, so he squeezes Dave gently in reply and leaves it at that.

Dave feels so light and fragile against him, like he could break apart at any moment. The thought terrifies Karkat, especially because he knows it's not unfounded.

What the fuck is he going to do if something happens to Dave? If his Hanahaki gets worse, if he refuses to get the surgery, if he--

Karkat blinks back tears. It's so fucking unfair. He's spent so many years alone and miserable and angry, hating himself for something he can't control. And now that he's finally got what he always wanted--someone who cares about him, who he cares about in return--the universe seems determined to ruin it for him in as many horrible ways as it can.

Even worse is the fact that Dave is suffering and Karkat can't do a single fucking thing about it. He just has to watch helplessly as his best friend is slowly being destroyed from the inside out.

He holds Dave close, watching the movie but unable to stop seeing flashes of Dave's shaking body as he wracks with coughs, piles of red flowers scattered around his feet.


	7. Keep Breathing

Dave sleeps through the movie. He basically paid three bucks to get his cuddle on with his bestie and he has no regrets. Karkat gently shakes his shoulder when the credits roll and Dave sits up, nonchalantly wiping at his mouth in case he drooled at all. Looking at Karkat’s sweater, it doesn’t seem like he did, thank god.

Karkat looks pretty fucking tired himself, so they toss their trash and grab a bus back to the dorm. Dave wishes he had the courage to tug Karkat against him, let him nap on his chest the way Karkat did for him, but he’s a coward and besides, he’s not comfy the way Karkat is. Instead he offers Karkat one of his headphones and they listen to music as the bus follows its route.

Dave tags along to Karkat’s dorm. It’s getting kind of late, but he doesn’t want to go back yet. He hesitates outside the door to Karkat’s room. If this really _were_ a date, this is when the kissing would happen, right? But it’s not, and it won’t, and Dave awkwardly shoves his hands into his pockets.

“You mind if I crash here tonight?” he asks. “I’m kind of not overjoyed with my brothers right now. It’s shocking, I know, try to pick your jaw up off the ground before you swallow flies or whatever that saying is.”

Bro is no doubt long gone, but D snitched on him and Hal got a front-row seat to Dave’s humiliation. Dirk is technically blameless, but Dave has no doubt he would’ve gotten a kick out of it as well. The point is, Dave doesn’t want to have to deal with his brothers for one night. Karkat’s always bitching about how weird they are; he’ll understand.

-

When the movie ends, Dave looks so peaceful that Karkat almost wants to stay here until he wakes up on his own. The buses will stop running before long, though, so he reluctantly shakes Dave's shoulder to wake him. On the way home he tries not to notice the way his body feels cold where Dave had been pressed against him.

Dave walks with Karkat all the way back to his room. When they stop at his door Karkat swears there's some weird tension between them. For a wild moment he wonders if Dave's going to _kiss him_ , before he comes to his senses and realizes how stupid that sounds.

Dave asks if he can sleep over so he doesn't have to see his brothers tonight, which makes sense. Under normal circumstances Karkat would be thrilled to share a bed all night with someone he was in love with, but now, knowing Dave doesn't return his feelings, it's going to be fucking agony.

He's not about to turn Dave away when he needs a friend, though, so he nods, trying not to let on how apprehensive he is.

"Yeah, of course you can, man. I might fall asleep early like an asshole though, it was a long fucking day. Sorry I can't provide the full Sleepover Experience like last time."

He opens the door and lets them in with a yawn, then grabs his bathroom stuff and a change of clothes.

"I'm gonna go shower before I pass out, but you can do whatever, watch movies on my computer if you want. Just try not to break my shit while I'm gone."

-

Karkat doesn’t turn his sorry ass away, thank god, and books it to take a shower before Dave can ask about borrowing some pajamas. As much as he’s resigned himself to Karkat never being romantically into him he’s still not exactly jumping for joy at the thought of his friend seeing him in his underwear.

He feels weird and a bit guilty digging through Karkat’s clothes, but he quickly finds a pair of sweatpants and a sweater. He pulls them on and it’s just as comfy as last time, and since Karkat isn’t here Dave doesn’t even stop himself from doing a happy little wiggle, feeling the softness of the fabric against his skin.

Dave climbs onto the bed and pulls his phone out to waste time playing a game. He’s not really up for a movie right now. Even after his little nap in the theater, he’s still tired. Looks like tonight will be an early night for the both of them.

He does send a quick text to Dirk--the only one not on his shitlist right now--explaining where he is. He ignores the messages from everyone else.

-

Karkat showers quickly, not wanting to leave Dave alone for long. He thinks about the whole flowers Dave coughed up today and the scared look on his face when he admitted it had never happened before. 

Obviously nothing bad is likely to happen to Dave in the few minutes they're apart, and it's not like he's with Dave every minute of every day anyway, but he still feels irrationally anxious, like he needs to be watching over his friend. It's extra stupid because even if something did happen, Karkat's not a doctor so what the fuck would he be able to do to help? He's useless.

He's relieved when he returns to find Dave still in one piece, sitting on his bed and... wearing Karkat's clothes. His heart flutters at the sight and he tells it to fuck off, it has no business giving him emotions over this. Dave just needed something to wear to bed, and yes he looks goddamn adorable, but his cuteness isn't for Karkat to enjoy, and it never will be. 

"I see you helped yourself to my wardrobe?" He manages a small smile. "I should have known you were only pretending to be my friend so you could borrow my clothes, wow, I feel so betrayed."

He rolls his eyes and flicks off the light, climbing onto the bed next to Dave and pulling the blanket around himself. Dave's phone screen casts a blue light over his face, and Karkat stares at him for several beats too long before tearing his eyes away.

-

“Ah yes, you’ve caught onto my dastardly plan,” Dave says, waving a hand pointlessly. “Unfortunately it’s too late. Besides, can you blame me? How the hell do you get your clothes so damn comfy?”

Karkat hits the lights and crawls into bed, and Dave pretends to be engrossed in his phone and not in the feeling of the boy next to him. Finally, he gives it up, turning the screen off and pulling off his shades. He nudges Karkat with them until he puts them on the table, then grabs a corner of the blanket and tugs.

“Don’t be so greedy,” he says. “You got all the blankets, dude, give me some.”

After a bunch of fussing and bickering over who does and doesn’t have an equal share of the blanket, Dave finally settles down, snug and warm and happy despite the steady pain in his chest.

“Night, Karkat,” he says, closing his eyes. “Thanks for putting up with Bro’s bullshit today. Don’t forget to put on your CPAP.”

-

Dave is such a little bitch about stealing his blanket, and it fills Karkat with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. He should just get a second blanket for Dave to use, since he's always so fucking cold anyway.

He dutifully follows Dave's instruction to put on his CPAP, and wonders whether Dave will need to get one for himself soon. Should he have one already? Dave's only had Hanahaki for a short time now, but his symptoms are already more severe than any Karkat's had, and Karkat doesn't know what that means but it fucking scares him. He'd lend Dave his own machine in a heartbeat if it wasn't a massive fucking health hazard.

He tells himself not to worry. Dave has an appointment this week, they'll tell him what to do then. It'll be okay. Or, it'll be as okay as it can be under the circumstances, at least, which themselves are really not o-fucking-kay.

Even though he's exhausted, it takes a long time before Karkat's able to fall asleep. He lies there with his mind whirling, worrying about Dave's health, replaying everything that happened today, and (unsuccessfully) fighting back his misplaced feelings for his best friend. After what feels like hours, he finally manages to tire his brain out and lets the sound of Dave's unsteady breathing carry him off to sleep.

-

Despite the dull pain in his side and the nap he took earlier, Dave falls asleep quick and easy. He’s still tired, and Karkat’s bed is comfortable and his pajamas are soft and warm and his best friend is by his side. For a moment, Dave lets himself pretend. Pretend that Karkat loves him back and they just returned from a fun date and now they’re falling asleep next to each other, which is a thing they do because they’re dating and in love.

The thoughts follow into his dreams, and it’s warm and happy and filled with laughter, until Dave jolts awake suddenly, the pain in his side turning harsh and burning. He gasps, a hand clutching at his ribs. It hurts more than when Bro accidentally stabbed him during a practice strife and D had to give him stitches.

He scrambles out of bed awkwardly, unable to roll out because he’s by the wall, so he scoots down and every move _hurts_ , causing sharp flickers of pain but he has to see what the fuck is wrong. 

Dave hears Karkat say something, but he’s too busy stumbling to the wall to turn on the light, pulling his shirt up and trying to figure out what’s making it so hard to breathe. There’s a weight on his chest but there’s nothing wrong that he can see, but everything’s blurry and at first he thinks it’s because he doesn’t have his glasses but then he realizes it’s from tears.

“ _Karkat_ ,” he gasps, and his legs suddenly aren’t strong enough to keep him upright anymore. He stumbles, landing on his knees, and a whimper is pushed out of him. His vision is going spotty and he doesn’t know if it’s from pain or panic or lack of air.

-

Karkat knows something's wrong before he's even fully awake. The bed shifts as Dave climbs out of it, gasping for air in a way that makes Karkat's blood run cold.

"Fuck, what is it? What's wrong?"

Dave doesn't answer but the light turns on and Karkat can see the stricken panic on his face. He's crying, which Karkat's never seen before, and that alone is fucking terrifying, but even worse are the ragged, desperate breaths he's sucking in as if he can't get enough air.

For some reason Dave pulls up his shirt to look at his chest. Did he get hurt somehow while he was sleeping?? Karkat can't see any injuries but Dave fucking _collapses_ to his knees, and the way he says Karkat's name sends a lightning bolt of panic through him. He's out of bed in an instant, rushing to grab Dave by the shoulders and holding him upright. Dave's still gasping for air and Karkat doesn't know what to do, fuck!

"Dave, what is it? Can you breathe?"

Dave shakes his head no. _Fuck_.

"Okay, okay, fuck, I'm calling for an ambulance, okay?"

Karkat grabs his phone from the nightstand and dials 911. He holds onto Dave with his free hand, eyes locked on his pained face. The operator picks up and Karkat babbles out that his friend needs an ambulance, it's an emergency and he can't breathe. He tells the operator where they are, what dorm and room number, and they instruct him to sit tight and keep a close eye on Dave's breathing until the EMT's arrive. They also tell him to put his phone on speaker mode, because if Dave stops breathing Karkat will need to perform CPR and they can walk him through the steps.

Swallowing the blind panic he feels at the idea of giving CPR to someone, let alone to Dave, Karkat does what he's told and sets his phone to the side.

"It's gonna be okay, Dave, the ambulance is on its way," he says loudly, not sure if Dave's even listening. He honestly looks like he's about to pass out at any moment.

-

Karkat is saying something, he’s got Dave by the shoulders, keeping him from falling face first to the floor. Dave hears _can you breathe_ and shakes his head, gasping. He’s breathing but it doesn’t feel like it; it feels wrong, something is _wrong_ and Karkat is doing something with his phone, he’s talking but Dave can’t hear him over the rushing in his ears.

The spots in his vision are getting larger and his panic grows. He scrabbles at Karkat, hands fisting in his shirt, and distantly realizes that Karkat is able to see his eyes in all their freaky glory. This seems very important, for some reason.

He’s so lightheaded. Everything is spinning and he can’t breathe and it _hurts_. He’s grateful when the darkness pulls him under, leaving his body to slump against Karkat.

-

Dave's hands are clutching at Karkat, pulling him close, and Karkat doesn't try to stop him. He holds on tight to Dave and tells him it's going to be okay, they'll be here soon, Dave's going to be just fine. Dave doesn't seem to be able to hear him but he keeps it up anyway, hoping just the sound of his voice will be a comfort.

Dave's eyes are full of tears and his eyelashes are sticking together wetly. It's a shockingly and unfairly beautiful thing to see during such a horrible moment. Karkat stares into Dave's unseeing gaze for several long moments before Dave's eyes roll back in his head and he falls limp against Karkat.

"Shit, I think he just passed out!" Karkat shouts in the general direction of his phone. "What do I do?"

"Is he still breathing?"

Karkat leans Dave back slightly, holding him steady to listen for his breaths. They're distressingly shallow and ragged but they don't seem to be stopping, thank god.

"Yeah, he's breathing, but not very fucking well. How long until the ambulance gets here, god damnit!!" His voice cracks and he realizes he's started shivering.

"Only a few more minutes. You're doing great, just make sure he keeps breathing."

It feels like it takes an eternity before the EMT's finally arrive. After that, things start to blur together. Karkat's being shunted out of the way while Dave is lifted on a gurney, then he's riding alongside Dave in the ambulance, holding Dave's limp hand and blinking away tears. More time passes and he's in the waiting room, watching helplessly as Dave is wheeled off down a long hallway where he’s not allowed to follow.

He sits down, his stomach churning, and oh fuck, he realizes with a jolt that he needs to call Dave's brothers. He doesn't have any contact info for them, so he calls the dorm's front desk instead, and the RA on duty agrees to run up to the Striders' to let them know.

He hangs up and slumps back in his chair, out of things to do, and starts biting at his nails. It's going to be a long fucking night.

-

Dave flits in and out of consciousness. There are hands, and then he’s being lifted. There’s noise, people talking, but Dave can’t hear what they’re saying. Someone is holding his hand, and when he manages to pry his eyes open he sees Karkat’s fuzzy, worried face. He can’t even try to give him a reassuring smile before he’s out again, the blackness seeping into his mind.

More noise, more talking, flashing lights, Karkat is gone. There’s a stabbing pain in his side but Dave is hardly aware of it. He doesn’t know where he is and he wants Karkat. Where did Karkat go? Where is he? What’s going on?

There’s a blurry face above him, a bright light behind it. Dave squints, and then there’s something covering his mouth, and he tries to shake his head to get it off but it doesn’t work, and he’s going under, deeper than before, and then there’s nothing for a very, very long time.

-

Karkat's not sure how long he waits in that chair. His head jerks up whenever someone walks by, heart pounding in anticipation of news about Dave. 

Finally at some point he hears multiple footsteps approaching and looks up anxiously, and oh, thank god, it's the Striders. All four of them, apparently. Huh. Karkat's pretty sure he's never actually seen them all at once before, and it's setting his already-shot nerves way the fuck on edge. A part of him, though, is also deeply relieved to see that they've shown up for their baby bro. 

Not that he thought they wouldn't, exactly, but... well, he wasn't honestly sure what would happen. Dave's stories of his childhood are lacking in comforting familial support, and most of them involve some variety of sword fighting. 

Dirk and Hal plop down in the corner without even acknowledging Karkat, which is fine by him. He's too fucking exhausted to deal with their bullshit anyway. D simply nods at him, then sits down by the twins. 

Bro, however, does not ignore Karkat, nor does he sit a normal distance away from him. Instead, despite the fact that the waiting room is completely empty, he drops down in the chair right next to Karkat's. 

Karkat flinches and curses, and drops his phone on the floor. He scrambles to pick it up and shoots a dirty look at Bro. "The fuck was that for, asshole?"

Okay, maybe taunting Dave's freakiest and most intimidating brother isn't the best fucking idea right now, but honestly Karkat's having a hard time bringing himself to give a fuck. There's really nothing Bro could do to him right now that would hurt more than he's already hurting.

-

Bro gives Karkat a look that’s placid the way the eye of a storm is calm. Anything he’s planning on saying is interrupted, however, by a man in scrubs approaching. The Striders are immediately on their feet, looking to him as he asks if they’re the family of Dave Strider.

“We are,” Bro says, tone brooking no argument when the man’s gaze lands disbelievingly on Karkat.

“Of course,” the man says, looking down at his clipboard. “Mr. Strider is currently being moved to the OR for emergency surgery. A root punctured his lung during the night and it has to be removed before the lung can be repaired.”

Dirk and Hal look at each other, a conversation passing between them silently, but it’s D who asks the question.

“Wait, is it _the_ surgery?” He asks. “Are you getting rid of his hanahaki?”

Immediately, the man shakes his head. “No, that will have to occur at another time. For now the priority is clearing his lung of overgrown roots and repairing the damage.”

-

Karkat hears "emergency surgery" and "punctured lung," and it's like all the air is punched out of him at once. His head spins as he tries to focus on the rest of the conversation.

"How serious is it?" he hears himself ask in a shaky voice, and the others turn to look at him. "I mean, is Dave going to be okay?"

_Or is he going to fucking die?!_ , is what Karkat can't bring himself to say out loud. He wants to throw up just thinking the words.

"It's not certain," the man tells them, and Karkat's stomach sinks. "Once the lung is cleared, the procedure to repair the puncture wound is relatively low-risk. However, it may be difficult to remove the root in the first place without causing greater damage to the area. I can promise you we're doing everything we can to ensure his safety and well-being."

So basically, a big fat, "we don't fucking know."

Karkat nods miserably, looking away as hot tears begin to prick at his eyes.

-

There’s a long moment of silence and the man says, “We’ll keep you informed,” and then he leaves. Dirk and Hal drift back to their seats but D walks closer to Bro, clasping a hand on his shoulder and giving it a short squeeze before moving to wrap his arm around Karkat.

“C’mon, dude,” he says, but Bro catches Karkat’s arm.

“Naw,” Bro says. “Come sit by me, lil’ man.”

D raises his eyebrows, but drops his arm and lets Bro drag Karkat back to their seats. He gives Karkat a blank look and asks, “What do you think about all this flower business?”

-

D and Bro appear to have some kind of disagreement where Karkat's supposed to sit, for some fucking reason. Bro wins out, of course. Karkat has no clue what the fuck is happening right now, and he's starting to get the sense that he's missing something. Although he pretty much always feels that way around these reticent assholes anyway.

He lets Bro drag him to their chairs without protest, his mind still churning over the news of Dave's surgery. Then Bro asks him a question, and Karkat feels like his brain is fucking breaking.

"What the fuck does that even mean?" he says, more bewildered than angry. "Are you asking what I think of Dave's Hanahaki, or my own, or the disease in general? I guess either way I think it fucking sucks, like pretty much any disease?? I don't fucking know what you're asking me."

He crosses his arms, feeling trapped like a bug under Bro's expressionless gaze.

-

Bro raises one eyebrow ever so slightly, then his face is blank again. Dirk and Hal shoot glances at D, who sprawls out in his waiting room chair in a way that’s entirely too relaxed to be anything but fake.

“He tell you who it is?” Bro asks.

“Bro.” D interrupts, lip twitching down into a ghost of a frown. “Leave the kid alone.”

“Just makin’ conversation,” Bro says, not looking away from Karkat. “Well?”

-

Karkat's head spins, feeling as usual like he's ten steps behind in the conversation.

"No, he hasn't fucking told me," he scoffs. "Just that it's some, uh, somebody in his class."

He stumbles over his words, not sure if Dave's come out to his brothers or not. Even though they're all queer as fuck, it's not Karkat's place to out his friend if he's not ready yet.

Wait, actually-- "Why, did he tell you?" Karkat tries not to sound hurt. He'd just assumed Dave hadn't told anyone, but maybe he just didn't tell Karkat. That idea shouldn't hurt as much as it does.

-

Bro opens his mouth to respond, but D beats him to it.

“Dave hasn’t told anyone shit, Karkat,” he says. “The only reason we know at all is because I saw him cough up petals.”

He stands, an uncharacteristic tension held in the line of his body.

“Bro, with me,” he says, turning and walking down the hallway without looking back. Bro’s eyebrows raise, but he stands to follow.

“Don’t go anywhere, kid,” he tells Karkat.

Dirk and Hal heave a simultaneous sigh when they’re out of sight.

“I hate when mom and dad fight,” Dirk says.

-

Karkat watches the two oldest brothers walk away and his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. He's getting the sense that D's trying to protect him from Bro, but he has no fucking idea what he did to piss Bro off in the first place. The guy's seemed to hate Karkat's guts from the very moment they met.

Not that Karkat blames him for it, but he just doesn't get why Bro hates him so much when the others don't seem to have a problem with him. Maybe he's just got higher standards than the others, thinks Karkat isn't cool enough to be friends with Dave, or something. Well, he wouldn't be fucking wrong, Karkat's certainly not going to argue against that.

He swallows around a lump in his throat and digs his fingernails into his palms, staring at his lap. He's determined not to let himself act like a huge fucking crybaby and give Bro yet another reason to hate him.

-

“Don’t take it personally,” Dirk pipes up.

“Bro’s always been overprotective,” Hal adds. “Especially over Dave. He’s the baby of the family. And it shows.”

Dirk elbows his twin in the side, but he nods. “We were all old enough to mostly take care of ourselves after Bro got custody, but he and D got the biggest ‘parenting experience’ with Dave.”

“He’ll warm up to you eventually,” Hal says. “It took him years to stop tormenting Egbert.”

-

Karkat's curiosity about Dave's family situation, about which Dave has told him basically nothing so far, momentarily distracts him from spiraling into self-loathing. He lifts his eyes and listens carefully, piecing this new information together with the little he already knows.

Slowly but surely, a picture begins to form. One where Bro's actions, aggressive and cold as they may seem, might actually be motivated by the desire to care for and protect his family. And, well, there's basically nothing Karkat can understand better than wanting to protect the people he loves. Bro's still a douchebag, but he's a douchebag who cares about Dave, and that alone gives him and Karkat something in common.

Karkat's not insensitive enough to ask why Bro has custody of them, or what happened to their parents, though he's deathly fucking curious about it. Maybe one day Dave will tell him, but he's not going to pry for information right now.

Karkat sighs. "Okay, well I guess I can't fault Bro for being overprotective, especially considering how completely shit Dave is at taking care of himself. But I don't know why he would see me as any kind of a threat?!"

He frowns. "I mean, I'm the one who's been making sure Dave doesn't fucking starve himself or work out for hours to try and impress some shallow asshole who can't even see how great he is. If anything, Bro should be pissed at whoever Dave's-- whoever he's got this fucking disease over!"

He can't quite bring himself to say, ‘whoever Dave's in love with,' or he really will start crying.

-

The twins look at each other, having a silent conversation for a few long moments, before turning away and staring at Karkat in sync. 

“What do you mean, starving himself?” Hal asks, a hard edge in his voice.

Dirk is frowning, eyebrows drawn together.

-

Oh, god damnit. Karkat hopes Dave won't be too pissed at him for letting that one slip. He feels a little guilty for it but honestly, how the hell had it escaped their notice for all those weeks?

"Did you seriously not notice? How he was eating nothing but salads and protein shakes for fucking weeks, and refusing to eat any of his usual junky crap? I mean, christ, he fucking passed out in my room once because he hadn't eaten enough! Barely avoided concussing himself on the floor."

He shakes his head. "He's stopped doing that shit though, thank god. Fucking dumbass."

His voice goes a little softer when he insults Dave, and it almost sounds more like a pet name than a put-down. Fuck, he really hopes Dave is okay.

-

Dirk’s jaw tightens and Hal stiffens in his seat before intentionally relaxing. They look at each other, another silent conversation passing between them, then look back to Karkat.

“We thought he was trying to copy D,” Dirk says, voice carefully bland. “He’s done it before; Dave’s always looked up to D the most.”

“I gave him shit about it,” Hal adds, a frown tugging across his features. “I had no idea he was starving himself.”

“He passed out?” Dirk asks. There’s the sound of approaching footsteps and he quickly says, “Don’t tell Bro. He’ll lose it.”

-

It's clear that the twins are concerned, and probably feeling guilty now too, and Karkat wishes he could take back everything he said. He should have just kept his mouth shut instead of letting all his thoughts spew out all over the place. Maybe if he wasn't such a fuck-up in general, Bro wouldn't hate him so much. And maybe Dave would actually like him back as more than a friend.

He doesn't get a chance to try and repair the damage he caused, because moments after Dirk's warning, Bro and D walk back into the room. The tension is thick as Karkat looks up at them with apprehension, not sure if he's about to get his ass cleanly handed to him. At least he's already at the hospital, it'll save him a trip in the ambulance after Bro's done with him.

-

D immediately saunters over and plops into the seat next to Karkat. After a moment, Bro moves to sit in D’s abandoned spot, face empty of any emotions.

“You’re good, dude,” D says, punching Karkat lightly in the shoulder. Dirk and Hal exchange knowing looks. “All we gotta do now is wait. Dave will be fine.”

Despite his words, there’s a tightness in his voice, a tension in his muscles that isn’t usually there. He leans back in his seat, legs sprawled out in front of him.

“Alright,” D continues. “Dave stories. Hal, go.”

Hal sits up straighter, the side of his mouth twitching up. “Remember the first time he brought Egbert home? Bro made him cry and Dave was pissed. Thought they wouldn’t be friends anymore, but they were running around causing trouble the next day.”

D huffs a laugh. “They snuck into your room and tried to build a robot. I’m pretty sure Dave electrocuted himself at some point.”

“He’s always been shit with robotics,” Dirk says. He glances at Hal. “Maybe we should give him Slappy. He loves that stupid robot.”

“Then he’d be able to use it against us,” Hal points out. “I don’t want to be woken up by a robot arm smacking me in the face.”

Dirk hums consideringly. “Could convince him to use it on Egbert.”

The twins fall silent, thinking over their options. Bro has been watching this exchange, finger tapping against the arm of his chair. It’s the only movement he’s made.

-

Karkat watches this strange interaction play out, trying not to look as confused and anxious as he feels. He still feels like he's on a whole different page than everyone else, but at least Bro's not breathing down his neck anymore.

It should probably be disconcerting that Hal's fun "Dave story" involves Bro making someone cry and Dave electrocuting himself, but it's kind of a sweet moment nonetheless. The Striders are an odd bunch but it's becoming evident to Karkat that they care about one another a lot more than they let on.

A few beats of silence pass, then D starts up again. "Oh, shit, remember when he was like thirteen and he found my hard cider stash and thought it was AJ?"

Dirk's mouth twitches in what might be a smile. "God, I still can't believe he thought it was expired and just drank it anyway. Like three whole bottles, holy shit. We got home and found him completely trashed, he'd puked fucking everywhere. Bet he's still just as much of a lightweight."

"He is," Karkat says, thinking of the one and only time he's seen Dave drunk. They'd only had two beers each, but Dave ended up getting so drunk that Karkat had to help him back to his room after the movie. He remembers Dave's hot breath against his ear, his too-loud giggles and Karkat shushing him as they passed the RA's room.

Fuck.

Karkat's lip wobbles, and he blinks quickly. He's not going to cry. He's not.

-

“You get my baby brother drunk a lot?” Bro finally speaks. Hal nudges him harshly with his foot.

“C’mon, man,” Dirk says. “Lay off.”

There’s a sharp frown on Bro’s face as he looks to each of his brothers. 

“This is fucking stupid,” he says, pushing himself up from his chair. “Y’all need to rethink your priorities.”

With that he stalks away, retreating down the hallway and turning the corner, disappearing from sight. D gives a frustrated sigh.

“Don’t worry about him,” he tells Karkat. “He’s being even more of an asshole than usual. Bro gets like that when shit involves Dave.”

-

Karkat flinches as Bro stands up to leave. He never got Dave drunk, he wants to say, but he can't speak around the lump in his throat, and Bro's already walking away.

D's saying something to him, but Karkat can't focus on the words, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. To his utter horror he feels his eyes begin to well up with tears.

He jumps up and stammers, "I'll be right back," completely mortified, then takes off down the hallway before anyone can stop him.

Tears blur his vision and he scrubs at them angrily, hating himself. He turns a corner without looking and nearly walks headfirst into Bro. Fuck, fuck. Karkat ducks his head and tries to walk around him, but Bro moves to block his way.

-

“Goin’ somewhere?” Bro drawls, putting himself more firmly in Karkat’s way. 

There’s a flicker of anger in his expression for a millisecond before it smooths back out, going cold once more. 

“Glad I got you alone, kid,” he says. “‘Cause we need to talk. The way I see it, you’re either cruel or stupid. My brothers seem pretty fuckin’ sure it’s the second one and they better be right. So how ‘bout you tell me plain and simple what you plan to do about Dave.”

-

It hurts to find out that Dave's brothers think he's stupid, since Karkat sort of thought they were warming up to him, but that hurt is quickly overshadowed by the sudden anger that floods through his veins at the rest of Bro's statement. This is some serious _bullshit_. It's one thing for Bro to simply antagonize him, but it's another thing entirely for him to go behind Dave's back and try to meddle with his friendships.

Karkat crosses his arms and glares defiantly back at Bro, hating the way his stupid pointed shades hide his eyes, while his own emotions are visible all over his tear-streaked face.

"What do I plan to _do_ about Dave? If you mean what I think you mean, then I'm sorry to be the one to give you the bad news, but I'm not fucking going anywhere until Dave tells me to leave himself. I know you hate me 'cause you think I'm not good enough for him, right? Well guess fucking what, you're completely correct!! Honestly, I'm not good enough for _anyone_ , but for some fucking reason Dave hasn't realized that yet, so here we are!"

Bro opens his mouth but Karkat's in full rant mode now and there's no way of hitting the brakes even if he wanted to. Tears are still slipping down his cheeks, but his voice is strong and defiant.  
.  
"I get that you're protective of him or whatever, but he can make his own decisions about who he hangs out with! I mean, fuck, I doubt he's going to end up permanently uncool just from hanging out with a loser for a few months."

His voice turns bitter, and he gestures angrily, rolling his eyes with his whole body.

"Anyway, you don't even need to bother with this bullshit intervention or whatever the fuck this is, because it's only a matter of time before Dave's _mystery crush_ takes notice of him, and when that happens he'll forget about me all on his own. He keeps saying they're not into him but come on, how could they _not_ be? He's funny and sweet and smart and-- well, whatever. Like I said, when that happens Dave won't need my useless ass around anymore, and everything can go back to the way it's supposed to be. He can have his feelings happily and vomit-inducingly reciprocated by someone who's undoubtedly much cooler than me, and I'll be out of your stupid over-gelled hair once and for all. But until then, I don't care how much you try to intimidate me, I'm not fucking leaving his side!! Not until he wants me gone himself."

-

Bro observes Karkat for a moment; his tear-stained face, heaving chest, hands fisted at his sides.

“Stupid, then,” Bro notes, nodding. He continues before Karkat can have another outburst. “Alright, kid, I’m gonna make this easy for you. My bros out there are more concerned with Dave’s feelings than the fact that he’s on an operating table right now, so this shit is once again up to me.”

A pause. Bro lets out a sharp breath through his nose. “Dave ain’t got a _mystery crush_. He’s in love with you. So you’re either gonna tell him you love him back or see yourself out of his life, ‘cause I’m not about to let my baby brother die, got it?”

-

_'Dave's in love with you.'_ The words hit him like a punch to the chest and he stumbles back.

It's... not possible. Right?? It can't be. Bro has to be lying. Karkat's heart leaps into his throat with stupid, pathetic hope even as he shakes his head to deny it.

Clearly Bro's figured out that Karkat's disgustingly in love with Dave, so he's just fucking with him to be an asshole. To try and make Karkat embarrass himself. That's all this is.

_'Tell him you love him back.'_

Karkat's face burns. Do all the Striders know how he feels about Dave? Fuck, that's humiliating!! But if that's the case, why hasn't one of them just told Dave about Karkat's gross feelings already? Nothing is making any fucking sense. The only thing Karkat's sure about is that Dave doesn't love him back, so he latches onto that thought, painful as it is, as the rest of his mind spins chaotically out of control.

"That's not-- I don't-- No, you're--"

He struggles and takes a deep breath.

"Dave _doesn't_ feel that way about me. He told me it was someone in his class. Someone who's 'out of his league.' As if that's even possible," he scoffs. "Anyway, that clearly doesn't describe someone like me. I don't fucking know what you're playing at right now but if you're really worried about Dave, you should be trying to get him to confess to the person he _actually_ loves. I don't know why you're wasting your time talking to me about this shit."

-

“For fuck’s sake, kid,” Bro sighs. “I’m not a fuckin’ therapist and I don’t give a shit about your self-esteem. Will you rub two braincells together and fuckin’ think?”

He crosses his arms, lips turned down. “Someone in his class, huh? Weird that he fell in love with someone you don’t know when the only people he hangs around with are you and Egbert. Why d’you think he’s so reluctant to tell you who it is?”

“Ask my brothers if you’re so fuckin’ in denial about it. Everyone knows it but you,” Bro says.

-

Karkat's brow furrows as he attempts to make sense of all this information. All of his instincts are telling him not to believe Bro's words, but he can't deny that it would explain... well, a lot of things. Karkat has to admit he doesn't have any concrete evidence to disprove what Bro's saying, except that, of course, it's completely and laughably impossible.

Isn't it?

His heart pounds in his throat as he hesitates, unsure what to think, let alone say.

He's not sure if he's relieved or dismayed when D chooses that moment to appear from around the corner. D stops short when he sees Bro and Karkat facing off in the hallway, assessing Bro's frown and crossed arms, and Karkat's tearful eyes.

-

“What did you do?” D demands, running a hand through his hair. “What did I _just_ say?”

Bro sets his jaw. “Someone had to tell him.”

“That’s not your call to make, dude,” D says, shoulders slumping, exhaustion rolling off him in waves. “Dave should get to decide who he tells and when.”

“Dave’s being operated on,” Bro says stubbornly. “He can’t decide anything.”

D’s mouth tightens and he shakes his head, turning his attention to Karkat, his body angling away from Bro. “You look like shit, lil’ man. Go get cleaned up.”

-

Karkat's eyes widen as D essentially confirms everything Bro just told him. He doesn't know D _that_ well, but he sort of trusts him, or at least more so than he trusts Bro, and it doesn't make sense that D would lie to him. He's never had an issue with Karkat, right?

So does that mean...?

He startles when D tells him to go clean up and quickly takes the opportunity to get the fuck out of there. He walks down the hall until he finds a bathroom and ducks inside, slamming the stall door shut behind himself and pressing his back against it.

Something's making a rattling noise, and it takes him a moment to realize it's the door he's leaning against, being jostled by his trembling shoulders. He sinks to the floor, feeling more tears roll down his cheeks, and his chest heaves as he finally lets himself break down, sobbing into his arms, his whole body shaking like a leaf.

Fuck, he wishes Dave were here.

He lets himself cry until he's all cried out. Then he just sits for a long time and thinks over everything that's happened, turning it over in his head and letting it sink in. He still doesn't know what to believe, or what he should do. All he knows is that he cares about Dave, and he'd do anything for him.

When his ass is starting to get sore from sitting on the floor, he pulls himself together and blows his nose, splashes water on his face, and heads back to the waiting room. He still looks like a mess, eyes red and puffy from crying, but he needs to be there whenever Dave's surgery gets finished, to find out if he's okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Karkat: [@AAdoxography](https://twitter.com/AAdoxography)  
> Dave: [@alldavekat](https://twitter.com/alldavekat)
> 
> this fic is being written as a live roleplay in the [strilonde rp jamz discord server](https://discord.gg/y2b9Eu2) (18+)!


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